


The Fate Of The Unorganized

by ImJustVerable



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Axel is still sorta depressed, But I'm new here and uncertain, But it's the though that counts, But the MC is a teenager, Demyx is still a chill goofball, Disney Worlds (Kingdom Hearts), Domestic Fluff, During KHII, Everyone gets a nickname, Gen, Happy times, Here's to my first AO3 fic, Keyblades (Kingdom Hearts), Little Bit of Everything, Luxord Promotes gambling to a child, MC has voices in her head, Most of the time he's not, Occasional Disney Character, Organization XIII (Kingdom Hearts), Rating is really only for occasional swear, Saix doesn't know what to make of the MC, So I wanted to be sure, So expect some romanticizing and such, What are laws to nobodies though?, Xemnas thinks he's being a good host, a sassy mc, after Roxas and Xion, no actual pairings, or something, original main character, throw in some confusion, top it off with a few headcanons, with a dash of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2019-11-08 05:44:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17975543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustVerable/pseuds/ImJustVerable
Summary: "The girl is like a sunset. In her time, she undoubtably spawn shadows. Many, many shadows. But at her core, there will always be light. She treads the line between hope and despair. Between empty night and sparkling day. But she will never fall from the tightrope on which she so precariously walks. She is a human twilight: and our last chance. "Xemnas has lost both of his keyblade wielders in a single day. After the fall of Roxas and Xion, he needs to bring a new player into the game. His fall back plan isn't exactly ideal, by any means. But if he can get her in favor of the Organization, she may just give them the leverage they need to untimately rid themselves of all issues involving Sora. And this time, to avoid any betrayls, he'll make certain that she joins of her own accord.But the superior of Organizaiton XIII fails to account for the fact that his newest hope-to-be-addition has some ideas of her own. Allowing- or rather, forcing-her to live inside Castle Oblivion may prove to be more trouble than it's worth, as her rather intruiging personality begins to provoke the members' curiosities. Soon, the question arises.Are they really swaying the new girl? Or is she turning their own plan against them?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I love the KH series to pieces and really hope to do it even a little justice during this story. That being said, I'm just writing this for the fun of it, so it may be off here and there. I don't really have a plan for this yet, but I do have certain scenes worked out so chapters shouldn't be too far apart. The main character is an one of my own OC's, and I know sometimes that can drive people away, but I'm hoping you'll give her a shot. I'm usually pretty good with sticking to character's personalities, but if something seems a little too off, please let me know! I'm always looking for pointers on my writings, fics or otherwise.  
> All that aside, I hope you enjoy!

_ When one is walking through the forest, it will always play a certain song. Crunching leaves under soft-stepping feet make the rhythm. The whistle of the wind through the trees and valleys make the tune. Rustling leaves and babbling brooks make up the chorus. And anything extra simply adds to the simple, yet melodious harmony. To most, it is nothing extraordinary. However, to a certain forest dweller, it is the sweetest sound in the world. She cannot help but be enthralled by it.  _

_ It’s the end of the day. She is just returning home after an easy day’s work in town. The bakery has been fairly slow this week, with only the regulars stopping by for their daily order and a bit of chit-chat. In her hands she carries a box of cinnamon rolls, gained through the courtesy of her boss; one of the few people that knows she lives alone. She still can’t believe that one person could worry so much over her.  _

_ After all, she’d been looking out for herself for quite some time.  _

_ Pausing amongst a pile of fallen leaves, she tilts her head back to look up at the sky. Between the gaps in the branches of the trees she can catch a few glimpses of the sky: pastel purples and pinks and oranges blend together to paint the cloudy heavens above. If she hurries home, she might just make it in time to catch the gorgeous red sunset that this world is famous for.  _

_ With that thought in mind, she starts again on her trek, being sure to move a little more quickly than she had been. She supposes she could run if she were all the concerned about it. But her little house-more a shack than a house really- lies in a clearing that simply can’t pull off the same perfume of rain-dampened soil and mossy trees. She likes to embrace that scent.  _

_ A soft smile pulls at her lips as she jogs along. _

_         ***** _

_ Roughly a yard away from where the girl had been stopped, a cloaked figure leans against a tree, arms folded over their chest. Facial features are hidden under a large hood, but the turning of the head makes it obvious that their eyes are tracking...trailing the blonde-haired teen as she works her way through the woods. Not a sound escapes them as they right themselves and begin to stalk along behind her.  _

_ ***** _

_ She can feel a presence following her.  _

_ Many like to believe that if they’re ever being followed, the world would stops in its tracks. That everything would go silent and time would stand still and shadows would close in from all sides. They like to think it would be obvious. But it never is. Not unless they know what listen for. Any hired weasel that’s worth their salt will know how to hide themselves among the shadows, but only the best of the best can silence their breathing and match every footstep perfectly with their target’s.  _

_ Her pace doesn’t slow. The tired grin on her face never falters. But she listens. Her instincts tell her she’s not alone, and there are very few instances where they’ve been wrong.  _

_ After hearing nothing for a minute or so, she begins to wonder if this is one of those rare occasions. Yet, she just can’t shake the feeling that- _

_ Wait. There.  _

_ It’s very subtle. A shift in the brush. So soft it could have been mistaken for any number of natural causes. But the harsh crunch of leaves afterwards tells her that someone just tripped over a root. That’s all she needs.  _

_ Without a glance behind her, she shifts into a sprint. Her box of goodies clutched tightly to her stomach, she turns off onto a roundabout path. It may be the longer way home, but anyone new to the area will have a hard time navigating the uneven terrain. She counts on her mental map to keep her from stumbling over the natural traps of the trail. She’s spent a long time in this forest. She knows these paths like the back of her hand. With long strides she bounds over roots and divots, always listening for her pursuer.  _

_ If she can just make it home- _

_  “What-!”  _

_ The word escapes her in an audible gasp as she tries to skip to a stop. Somehow, they’d gotten ahead of her. They seem to step out from the shadows themselves, moving at a leisurely pace, as if they’re in no hurry to finish their job.  _

_ Whatever that job may be.   _

_ As she lurches to a stop, her foot skids over a particularly rocky patch in the ground, and she ends up stumbling backwards. Despite her best efforts, she still finds herself on her rear amongst the dusty soil. Guided by instinct, her arms fly out to catch herself, and the box of pastries is thrown to the side. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the cardboard container slide open and her treats scatter; some tumbling out of sight, others only falling pathetically to the dirt. A brief wave of bitterness overcomes her, and she glares up at the cloaked figure. Scrambling backwards, she pushes herself back onto her feet, never once removing her gaze from the other. They seem to be watching her too, but she can’t be certain. Their lack of a readable expression unnerves her.  _

_ Looking at a person’s face can supply a lot of information. The intensity of their stare can hint at any malicious intent. Tense features will tell of a jumpy or agitated personality. Even little wrinkles around the eyes and mouth are helpful in determining whether a person has a tendency to smile or sneer; the difference between an easily swayed assailant and one to be cautious of. All kinds of information that helps to form a defensive strategy. Barring that, she would like to know who’s henchman this is so she can outmatch them in the most effective way possible.  _

_ However, as it is, she cannot even tell if the person she’s currently facing is a man or a woman. Their build is rather willowy, with them being tall but not quite on the bulky side. The flat chest makes her want to put money on a male, but really, who is she to judge?  _

_  “Moving on.” A voice in her head urges. Neither of them have made a move. They seem to be waiting on her. Which gives her an idea.  _

_ Worn down sneakers move from their defensive stance, preparing to run. The black cloak shifts as the person underneath it prepares for whatever she’s about to do. She smiles.  _

_  “That’s my chance.” _

_ Dirt flies as she kicks off in a random direction. The figure lurches, reaching out to grab her, but leather gloves miss by mere inches. With an opening now to her left, she throws her body forward, tumbling under their reach, before smoothly righting herself (she’d picked up on the tuck-and-roll trick a couple years back, and had been quick to master the recovery). Once again, she prepares to hightail it for home. It shouldn’t be too much fa- _

_ She’d only made it a few feet. A stray root- one she is certain hadn’t been there before- snags her heel, sending her down face first. As she looks behind her for the figure, she’s shocked to see the plant stretching out of the ground, wrapping itself around her calf.  _

_ They approach. She claws at the ground in an attempt to free herself, rock and hard soil scraping at her desperate hands. Any certainty or courage she’d had moments ago drains, leaving only sparks of fear to burn through her. A sick feeling works its way into her stomach. Thoughts fill her mind. Few make sense. Everything moves too slowly; but too quickly at the same time. A shriek builds up in her throat. She opens her mouth. No noise escapes. _

_ They grab her arm, forcing her to her feet. The world goes tilts, goes dark. Her skin prickles and sears where they’ve got ahold of her. Her head pounds in time with her heart. There’s not enough air.  _

_  “Help.”  Silent cries, “Help. Help me. I need- help, help me. Can’t breath. Need- Can’t- need help. Can’t-can’t-can’t--Breath. Can’t. breath-help-” _

_ Over and over. She struggles. Her movements are weak.  _

_  “Help me.” _

_ *** _

_ “How disappointing.” _

_ He’d pulled her into the corridors to prevent anyone from hearing her scream. However, at this point, it doesn’t seem necessary. Her attempts at resistance are weak. She’s trying to pull away, sure, but it’s as if all her strength has simply left her. It would be better to say she’s putting all of her weight into leaning away from him. She’s mouthing words, but doesn’t actually speak. Seafoam blue eyes appear glazed over, and her breathing is sharp.  _

_  “I suppose I should stop her now. They apparently don’t want her injured. Although, if it is of her own accord, would I be punished, I wonder?” _

_ The theory is not to be tested, he knows. Besides, leaving her in this state would only make transport all the more difficult. So, raising his free hand from his side, he lets out a string of murmurs; to anyone else, it would have been gibberish. But, when his closed fist opens, it reveals a small pile of red flower petals with black bases, sitting in his palm. Underneath the hood, he smirks. _

_  “These should do nicely….” _

_ A small puff of breath sends them fluttering from his hand: however, instead of simply drifting to the ground, they seem to come to life. They hover in the air for a moment, swaying to and fro. Then, they’re carried on a nonexistent breeze, dancing over to the girl. Lost in her frightened stupor, she hardly notices the approaching bits of flora until they’re directly in front of her. He watches as their sweet scent reaches her and immediately the tension leaves her body. Her eyes droop. For an instant, it appears she tries to resist the sleepy feeling that is overcoming her. But as he loosens his hold on her, she only fumbles.  _

_ He counts how many seconds it takes. _

_ 1...2...3...4… _

_ He makes certain to catch her as she falls.  _

_ The petals disappear into thin air. With no apparent strain, he shifts so she’s resting comfortably in his arms, before straightening up. He looks into the darkness around them, before walking no particular direction. Within minutes, the shadow falls away to reveal a room.  _

_ A room with thirteen towering seats, and walls as white as history’s purest light. _


	2. A Wandering Child In A Very Strange Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "On all sides of them, for as far she can see, it is nothing but an empty haze of not-quite-pitch-black blackness. As if she has closed her eyes in a room with little light. But her eyes are open-as reaffirmed by a glance down at the figure carrying her- and this is no room, but merely, a space. An endless, in-between space. Mentally, she struggles between being fascinated and disturbed.   
>  'What the hell is this?'"
> 
> Escape has never been easy for her. But it's the one thing that she's known how to do for most of her life; the only problem is, this time, it feels like the a line is being crossed from 'difficult' to 'impossible'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, alright. I am immensely sorry this took so long to get out. It was NOT my intention to take this long, and I could give a million excuses, but honestly there's a simple (and stupid) truth. Quite literally the day after I posted the prologue, I ended up contracting a sinus infection, and it took me down for a full week. (It was my once-a-year, feel-like-I'm-dying illness.) Because of that I ended up getting stuck in a rut, writing wise, which obviously lead to this being as late as it was. I did want to get it out, though, so forgive me if it feels a little rushed or sloppy...it was. But that being said, this was originally one chapter and it ended up getting split into two because of it's length, so the next part will be out on time.   
>  Alright, enough of all that. I apologize again, but I hope you all enjoy!

Consciousness wavers just out of her reach. Her mind is fuzzy. Her throat is dry. The taste of copper rests on her tongue. 

Where is she?

The air is sterile. It is cold...very cold. But is it the room, or the uncomfortable surface beneath her? Goosebumps rise on her arms as she curls in on herself. She whines. Her breaths are slow...quiet. 

And there are voices. Distant.

 “Is she waking?” Loud. Too loud for the fragile silence.

 “...would you...quiet…? -sleep...not ready.” Reprimanding. 

 “...flowers...quite effective...would you not?” Stoic. 

 “...dare doubt?...’Oz Poppies’...strong…” Defensive. 

 “...harmless? ...better hope...need her...” Reproachful. 

 “ _...need her..? Need...me? Why?”  _

The slumber drags her back again. 

***

Crawling back into the waking world is a slow, difficult process. A tangle of thoughts slug through her mind, trying to sort themselves out. The acidic taste of bile fills her mouth and makes her parched throat burn. She rolls her jaw, trying to rid herself of the tenseness, wincing as bones crack in protest. When her eyes finally blink open, they’re met with a painfully pure white ceiling. She lies there for some time, squinting above her, letting awareness work its way back to her. It’s only once her mind has cleared and the pins and needles have faded that she begins to move. Pushing herself up, she comes to rest shakily on her elbows.

Her mouth presses into a thin line as she observes her surroundings. It appears that she’s in some sort of infirmary, judging by the several cots around the room. In one of the corners, a shelf holding pill bottles and medical supplies rests against the wall. Directly beside it is a doorway that leads out into a different area, but she cannot tell if someone is stationed on the other side. She realizes her jacket and shoes are missing, and several back and forth studies show her that the missing articles are nowhere in the area. Slowly, she scooches herself into a cross-legged sitting position. Staring silently at nothing in particular, she assesses her situation. 

 “ _ We’ll start with the bad. First off, I have absolutely no clue where I am. Someone’s group finally managed to catch me, and I have idea whose it is. More concerning is that fact that they seem like they actually know what they’re doing. Their competence is concerning.”  _ Her brows furrow. “ _ But...they did say they needed me. Which means I’m probably safe from an attack, if even for a little while. What I need to figure out is what they want from me.” _

She lifts her head up, once more looking through the opening into the next room. 

 “ _ I’ll have to get out of here if I want any information. Suppose it’s time to get moving. “ _

Determining her next course of action, she moves with a little more vigor now. Sliding her legs off of the cramp-inducing mattress, bare feet are met with a smooth, frigid flooring. Pure instinct causes her to jerk them back, and she gives a quiet hiss. 

If there is one thing she’s always hated, it has to be cold floors. Or the cold in general. There’s always an unpleasant numbness and sting that comes with freezing weather, or sitting in a room with the air conditioning on way too high. She would much rather curl up under three to five comfy blankets with a bowl of popcorn and a warm drink than go deal with any sort of cold. 

Still, if she doesn’t want to end up as a sitting duck, she’s got to move. 

So, gritting her teeth, she reluctantly lowers herself down to the ground again. If anything, being slightly prepared the second time around makes the start of her trek a little less painful, but she still can’t make a move until she’s adjusted to the feeling of walking on ice. Then, as the tension leaves her body, she tiptoes over to the doorframe. Peering cautiously around each corner, she sighs with relief at the lack of guards. 

 “ _ Maybe I’m giving them too much credit. Leaving me unguarded? That’ll be their first and last mistake.”  _ She refuses to acknowledge the part of her that brings up an opposing point; that there may not be any guards because her captors don’t think there’s a need for them.Taking one last glance around the room in front of her- it resembles a laboratory of some kind- she picks a random direction and takes off-

-only to run directly into a wall. 

Or rather, what  _ felt _ like a wall. 

As she’s bounced and thrown back, she only sees a tower of black material. For the second time that day (she’s  _ hoping _ that it’s still the same day), she lands roughly on the floor, and left rubbing her aching head. As she looks up in confusion, she finds that the thing she’d run into is a person. A very tall,  _ very  _ bulky person. The head of the coat is turned downward, but cocked to the side, hinting at either amusement or confusion. 

 “ **_Oh, wonderful._ ** _ ”  _ Her internal voice proclaims sarcastically, “ **_We found a gorilla. Let’s take a picture, shall we?_ ** _ ” _

And while it was busy making snarky comments, another part of her was realizing something different. 

 “ _ This isn’t the same person from before.”  _ The thought strikes her as she recalls the frame of the previous black cloak being much smaller, “ _ Which, logically thinking, means there are probably several others around here as well. If that proves to be the case, this just got a hell of a lot more complicated.” _

She’s snapped out of her thoughts when her company seems to shift his weight impatiently. Her bruised hands sting as she shoves herself back onto her feet and stumbles away warily. If this one is anything like the other, this encounter could become rather messy. With nowhere to run, she can only tense for a fight and wait. 

Her opponent moves forward.

Like a mirror, she takes a step back. 

Forward.

Back.

Forward. 

Back. 

Very quickly, the Black Coat (she decides that anyone within this particular group shall be referred to as such) seems to tire of this dance. They release a breath so soft that it could hardly be called a sigh. They change their position, shifting to lean against the wall. Their hands go up, palms out, as if trying to show peace. Although she can’t read their expression, the intended message reaches her loud and clear. 

 “ _ I’m not here to hurt you.” _

_  “Hardly reassuring.” _ Her inner voice pipes, “ _ Considering I’ve already been kidnapped.” _

Her eyes narrow. She shakes her head and takes another step back. The black coat seems to contemplate. Within the shadows under the hood, she can just barely make out the outline of a face. Their hands lower as they apparently reach a decision. Before she even has time to react, the figure steps forward and closes the gap between them. As fast as the motion is, she knows they’d just been toying with her before. She’s been on the losing side of the battle the entire time. 

As if she were nothing more than a rag-doll, they hoist her up. The air is forced from her lungs as her stomach meets a broad shoulder, and she’s left gasping momentarily. In a last-ditch, fruitless effort, she squirms and pounds her fists against their back, nails digging into the fabric as she tries to pull herself out of their grasp. It annoys her that they’re hardly trying, only waiting patiently for her fit to pass. She growls some unpleasant words under her breath and resorts to propping her elbow up against their back.  

 “ _ I hope this is as uncomfortable for you as it is for me, you over-sized baboon.” _ She directs the thought at them as she rests her hand on her palm. If the sharp pressure bothers the Black Coat, they don’t show it, only re-adjusting their hold on her before turning around and moving farther from the infirmary. 

 “ _ This is pathetic.” _ The girl grumbles to herself and stares after the receding lab equipment, “ _ I’ve never gone down this easily before. If I get out of here alive, I’m gonna have to get myself back into shape. Maybe take a self-defense class.”  _ She’s so lost in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice the strange flick of the Black Coat’s wrist. In front of them-the only direction in which she cannot see- a dark portal opens. “ _ That’s the thing though. I have no clue what the plan is here. Usually the groups that come after me are complete idiots. They wouldn’t know a proper kidnapping if they were thrown in a sack and driven away. If I weren’t the victim here, I’d almost be impressed with their performance. Almost.” _

The sudden transfer from light to darkness throws her off. She blinks rapidly, trying to force her eyes to adjust. Beneath her, her captor continues to shuffle along, as if they weren’t completely swallowed by shadows. And truthfully, that is the only way to describe this. On all sides of them, for as far she can see, it is nothing but an empty haze of not-quite-pitch-black blackness. As if she has closed her eyes in a room with little light. But her eyes are open-as reaffirmed by a glance down at the figure carrying her- and this is no room, but merely, a space. An endless, in-between space. Mentally, she struggles between being fascinated and disturbed.  

 “ _ What the hell is this?” _

All too quickly-and at the same time, not quickly enough- the shadows fall away. There’s a sudden brightness that makes the poor girl to flinch and her hands fly up to shield her eyes. Temporarily stunned, she can only stumble helplessly as she’s lowered swiftly to the ground. There’s the sound of the Black Coat walking off, and a few breathy murmurs. Then, nothing. 

When she’s finally able to lower her arms to her sides and once again observe her surroundings, the first thing that she notices are the pillars. Within the round room she stands in, there are 13 of them. Each one is made of the exact same marble-esq material that seems to make up the rest of the building. Hey eyes follow them upwards, head tilting back as they continue to stretch towards the ceiling. Something is strange about them, however, as even the tallest does not reach all the way to the top. It takes her some time to realize that, no, they are not pillars, but rather, chairs. Thirteen towering, imposing chairs, each one a different height, and all but one occupied. Her breath hitches upon seeing twelve Black Coats, heads turned down to stare directly at her. 

 “ _ Oh, cherry buckets.” _ She swears inwardly. She doesn’t even bother with a defensive stance. There’d be no point.  

Hoping to not give them the satisfaction on seeing the traces of fear on her face, she glares and turns her gaze to the ground. An unusual grey pattern is carved into the floor; its details seem to be made of glass. 

 “ _ I’m about to be sacrificed, aren’t I?” _ The thought invades her mind as she remains tensely fixed in the center of the room. “ _ I guess there could be worst ways to go.” _

__ “Nothing to say child?” Without warning, from one of the coats raises a voice. Instinctively, she turns her attention above her, searching for the source, “Rather strange, considering how many questions you must have.”

She scans the room before landing on the figure sitting atop the tallest chair. He (the voice that had spoken was undoubtedly male) leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees. The aura radiating off of him is one of superiority, with maybe just a hint of cockiness hanging on the edge. Attitude aside, something about him causes her skin to prickle nervously, and in her mind, a single word settles. 

 “ _ Danger.” _

 “Ease yourself.” He replies, upon seeing her square her shoulders defensively, “We have no plans to harm you while you are within these walls. Quite the opposite in fact. But before I explain your purpose here, I suppose some introductions are in order…” 

In a single, flowing movement, the man straightens up and pushes his hood back from his face. There’s an immense rush of relief on her part upon finally being able to see a face, even if it is an unfriendly one. Now, in a much easier state of mind, she squints upwards in an attempt to make out his unusual image.

From where she is nearly half a story below, she can see very little of his finer details. But she can make out the silver hair that he tugs out from his jacket, having tucked it in the same way one with longer hair does on, say, a windy day. As it settles down over his shoulders, she’s mildly impressed by the fact that it falls even farther than her own. Its pale color contrasts sharply against his deeply tanned skin. Impossibly bright hazel eyes- seeming nearly golden- bore down at her, somehow managing to appear both intrigued and bored at the same time. His mouth is set at a smirk, but it’s so tight-lipped that there’s no real amusement behind it--as if it is only for show.

It doesn’t falter in the slightest when he speaks again.to

 “You shall refer to me as Xemnas. From this point onward, I am your superior. And I want to be the first to welcome you, Mira, to Organization XIII."


	3. You Just Like To Hear Yourself Talk, Don't You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Already today, Mira's been abducted, knocked out, and treated like a sentient rag-doll. What else could go wrong, one might wonder? Well, for starters, she could find herself surrounded by numerous powerful beings who apparently think she can somehow save their strange group from crumbling to pieces. Or perhaps meet their elven-looking superior who enjoys listening to himself talk for long periods of time. Regardless of who these people are- or, who they THINK they are- she knows one thing for sure: if they plan to keep her here, she's going to do everything she can to throw their plans for a loop.   
>  Even if it costs some maturity points on her part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High ho everyone! So, I've made it a plan to try and post a new chapter once a week, on either Tuesday or Wednesday. If I'm able to continue writing at the pace I am, there should be no more major delays for a while. Here's to hoping the universe doesn't decide to throw a rock at my face or something. But I have to return this borrowed computer, and I've got a stream to stalk, so I'll see you guys later!

“ _ Organization XIII?”  _

 “ **_Get it? Because there’s thirteen of them? Man, aren’t they  creative bunch? I say we give them all gold stars._ ** _ ”  _ The snarkier of her inner voices derides. Suddenly, it backtracks. “ **_Hold on. How did he know our name?_ ** _ ” _

 “Your confusion is expected. I admit, I’ve done my research. You have very little to hide, for all of your information is now within my personal database. My subordinates have also been supplied with basic reports and documents, although I was kind enough to spare them the details of your background. After today, it will be of no importance anyways.” 

 “ _ I don't know what he's implying, but I'm sure I don't like it.” _

 “But onto more pressing matters. Forgive me, for I am going to deny you any knowledge of our current goals; you see, those who are curious have a tendency to linger until they receive the answers they seek. I will tell you, however, what will be expected from you in the coming weeks. And I suggest you listen well. I loath having to repeat myself.” He pauses for a moment, watching her coldly, assuring her attention is his.

 “You will be supplied with a space of your own in which to stay. That being said, you will not be permitted to wander the hallways until you are more... _ adjusted _ to life here. When moving around the castle at any time- for meals or if I myself have summoned you- you will be accompanied by an escort. If you find yourself in need of anything else, you may inform whichever member you happen find yourself in the company of. Otherwise, you will be left to your own devices. Is this understood?” 

Having tuned out most of his tirade, Mira merely nods complacently. In all honesty, being kidnapped was turning out to be very different from what she’d imagined. Instead of being tied to a chair and having gruel from the trash shove down her throat, she’s getting fed terms and conditions? If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that they’d just brought her to some whacked-out boarding school for the psychotic. As he continues, she finds herself becoming rather bored. 

 “Good. To clarify, should you show any signs of defiance towards these instructions, there will be  _ severe consequences.  _ You have been brought here solely because you possess certain qualities that will prove useful to our cause. That being said, you are  _ not _ a necessity, by any means, and should it come down to it, you  _ will _ be eliminated.” 

 “ **_Ah, eliminated. That’s always a nice word to hear._ ** _ ”  _ The snarky voice returns, “ **_I just love hearing about deadly capabilities of our cleverly insane kidnappers. Really warms me up inside.”_ **

A nasty sneer must have worked its way onto her face, because a rather unamused expression comes to rest on his. 

 “I do not appreciate the expression you’re giving me. Perhaps I was not clear enough.”

She hardly has time to register the neon beam that materializes beside him before it’s launched towards her. Despite having sworn herself to silence, a high pitched yelp slips out as she leaps backwards, barely avoiding the projectile. It bursts into the ground, leaving only a blackened mark in its wake. From where she stands, mere inches away, she can feel an immense heat resonating from the space. 

Apparently satisfied with her shaken reaction, Xemnas leans back in his seat.

 “Listen well child, for I will not say it again.  **_I_ ** am in charge here. You are nothing more than a pawn, and I do not take well to disrespect from those below me. Test this if you must, but know that if you do, never again will you see the light of day. That, I swear by.”

The room is very still for a few moments. His words fall down on her harshly, their sinister intent looming over her, sitting like a heavy weight on her shoulders. Having nothing left to do, she can only stare at the smoldering mark on the floor, digging her nails into the skin of her arm. Her muscles begin to ache from the constant tension. She can feel the burn of his glare from above. Still, her jaw stays locked tight, refusing to give them the satisfaction of knowing just how frightened she is. There’s the release of a frustrated breath on his part, and she tries to hide the fact that she listens attentively to his next command.

Only, it isn’t directed at her. 

 “Marluxia.” He states a name, demanding its owner’s attention. One of the black coats on the right side of the room lifts their head. “Since you were the one to bring her in, you will lead her to her room. Saix,” Another black coat, in the seat to the left of the first, “you are to accompany them.” 

No doubt the orders were meant to be final, for Xemnas begins to shift as though preparing to rise. However, from the the second black coat he acknowledged, a complaint is raised. 

 “Sir, if I may.” The tone of this voice is much less...alive than the “superior’s” was. There’s no emotion, no personality. Somehow, the words call attention to themselves, despite being so empty. “Are two really required to walk a mere child through the corridors? I’m certain that one would be sufficient, seeing how weak she in comparison to ourselves.”

 “ _ Wow, okay. I mean, it’s probably true, but still...rude.” _

 “Truly, Saix? Have you not yet realized what can come of underestimating a ‘mere child’, as you so say? I believe we both can recall quite clearly what became of your reckless assumptions in the past, or need I remind you?” 

The other goes silent and seems to give in to a slight flinch. Whatever had happened previously, the mention of it is enough to send a wave of discomfort through the room. Even with the inability to clearly note their reactions, she can feel it. One of them tightly grips the edge of their chair. Several shift in their seats. A few roll their shoulders. There’s a very rough minute of silence, and she continues to glimpse up at each and every one of them. 

Finally, apparently deciding that it was time to leave the tension-filled room, one of the black coats that Xemnas had addressed stands gracefully on his chair. If memory serves her correctly, the name had been...Marluxia? Yes, Marluxia. She watches as he summons up another of the strange shadow portals that had brought her here and steps into it: then, within a few seconds, walks out onto the floor in front of her. Copying his movements, the other- Saix- follows close behind. 

As Marluxia approaches, she recognizes the figure as the same one that had stopped her in the forest. A need for vengeance floods through her veins. She steps away just as he reaches out to take hold of her. Saix makes the next attempt and receives the same result. Tilting her head back, she summons the harshest glare she’s capable of. Looking down on someone tends to work better when you’re taller than them, but the message is still clear. 

Completely avoiding any contact with them proved to be fairly easy this time around. Every swipe at her is dodged with a swift jump to the side. It almost seems like they’re afraid to charge her. She wonders if it is because of the captive audience above them; she can feel their stares against her back. 

 “ _ Well then,”  _ An idea flickers to life in her mind, “ _ if I’m going to be the center of attention, I may as well give them a show, huh?” _

She has to fight the smirk that plays at her lips. Their frustration is radiating, which will make this next move all the more satisfying. 

Mira takes a few steps towards her pursuers, taunting them. Saix is the one that reaches out. She pretends to falter, summoning up the nerve to appear shocked, and allows herself to be caught. Wide eyes stare up into an unreadable face. And then…

            She smiles.

            Letting gravity take over, she quite simply plops down onto the ground. He holds tightly to her wrist as she falls, keeping her arm outstretched, and the rest of her lands in a rather childish position. She raises an eyebrow at her foe. 

 “ _ What now?” _

__ “Having issues are we Saix?” Xemnas calls mockingly, “Honestly. And you wanted to leave poor Marluxia to do this on his own? When you yourself can hardly handle it?”

From anyone else, those words might have felt humorous: from him, they were laced with impatience and his expression was rather unimpressed. Still,  _ someone _ must find the whole situation entertaining, because from the black coat just right of Xemnas there comes a snicker. Not at all attempting to conceal the mirth lingering behind their words, they speak. 

 “Ah, let the girl walk. Not like she can run off anywhere anyhow. Besides, she’s making it pretty clear, isn’t she? I say give the kid some personal space.” This new voice clearly thinks himself above the two he’s speaking to. His words hold the same level of smugness that one might expect from a mob boss whose day job is that of a high-ranking business man- that is, he thinks he can get away with almost anything.

Saix turns his attention back to her. In the well-lit space, she can just make out the sneer on his face, and takes great pride from the quiet, bitter growl that escapes him. Within a moment, he’s released her, spinning on his heel to stalk a few feet away. In his place, Marluxia approaches, his arms crossed over his chest. 

Brushing herself off, she stands. 

Beside them, a portal opens. Just as she steps in, ready to leave the high-strung space, the white-haired boss man addresses her one last time.

 “Enjoy your time of rest child, for tomorrow your training begins. For now, I bid you farewell.”

Cutting off anything else that may have gone unsaid, the ‘door’ to the room closes, and she’s left facing nothing but an empty, shadowy void. 


	4. It feels like we're missing a candelabra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira has never once been successfully kidnapped before. That being said, she has a feeling that these 'Organization XIII' guys aren't exactly your average people-snatchers: that is, if television is to be believed at all. But now she's got a room and a schedule and escorts would be pretty pleasant company in any other situation. They're giving her names and faces as if it's going to matter in the end. Her resolve is unwavering. Her walls are up. She can't let them get to her, no matter what.   
>  Yeah...no matter what....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaannnd life threw a rock at my face. Or, okay, not mine specifically, but there was some family stuff going on this week (nothing horrid, no worries) that kept me from posting. So, to make up for that, here's a longer chapter on a holiday! Hope ya'll are having/ have had a good Easter/Passover if you celebrate. If you don't hopefully you're just having a good day overall! There is one thing I wanna say about this chapter regarding the confrontation between Mira and a certain Org. member. My inner critic is saying this is one to many face offs, but from how the plot is shaping up, this will be that last one for a while. Sorry! That being said, a bit of headcanon worked it's way into this chapter, so hopefully you get a bit of a chuckle out of it. I've been reading the KH mangas lately, and the characterization is driving my imagination insane. X3 But all in good time. Sorry again for the late post, and there won't be another ch. up until the 30th/1st. Okay, i think that's all.

When Saix had mentioned they’d be walking through corridors, Mira had imaged long hallways lined with rooms and entryways. Instead, forced to travel between her two guides, she only finds them ambling along through a long stretch of the in-between space. Whether they’re making any progress or not, she cannot tell. Everything looks the same in every direction, with no indication of where they’re headed. The air is filled with a barely-audible hum that seems to resonate from all around them. In a way, it’s mildly soothing. 

 “ _ Soothing or not, this place still feels so unnatural…”  _ Her conscience negates, refusing to let anything lull her away from her fight-or-flight responses. 

Saix and Marluxia clearly decided to go mute for the entirety of the trip, but she wonders if it’s because they’re brooding, or it they’re plotting to attack her when she least suspects it. She’s highly aware of the fact that there's no one around to stop them from doing so. And she  _ did _ make them look like complete fools… A million unpleasant images flash through her mind all at once, and her heartbeat increases twofold. 

She halts rather suddenly, a familiar pain blooming in her chest. The two men end up a few feet away before they realize that she’s stopped. As they turn, her eyes flicker between them, wariness clinging tightly to her shoulders. She grits her teeth as she looks into the obscured faces. She hates this. This helplessness, this...irrefutable obedience. In her mind, she knows what she wants to do; what the electric feeling sparking across her body is yelling for her to do. It’s the same thing she’d done before. 

She wants to run. 

All the paranoia and terror and stress have compressed into a tight ball, sending her survival instincts into overdrive. She remembers the last time she’d been in a position that made her feel as disabled as she did now. The last time she felt as though pure, unfiltered dread was flowing through her veins instead of her own blood. The feeling of a wild animal forced into a cage, surrounded by men with guns. But these men don’t have guns. They have magic: which can be much more dangerous than any bullet. And she can’t run. She can’t. There’s nowhere to go but void. Open, endless void. 

And they could catch her in a second. 

She must be shaking, her apprehension plain on her face, because one of them breathes in sharply. It sounds like a hiss as the air slides through his teeth. 

 “It’s happening again.” Says the voice of the thinner man. Their names have slipped from her suddenly. M. Something with a M. She closes her eyes, trying to remember. There’s a sound in her ears. Like she’s listening from underwater.

 “What do you mean? What’s happening?” The other one. S...Si…Sigh? Sayt? No. No, no, no, that was wrong.

 “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure. She reacted similarly when I first retrieved her from the forest. I think if we wait, she’ll pass out momentarily.”

Mira wants to tell him off. She wants her head to stop swimming so she can walk away with her head held high. She wants to try and keep what little pride she’s got left. But the moment she puts one foot forward to move on, her knees buckle. Her skin becomes cold. She suddenly feels the urge to vomit. She quakes. 

 “ _ I’m scared.” _

Her eyes slip shut. 

***

Irritatingly enough, the moment she wakes up, Mira once again finds herself in a different place than where she’s lost consciousness. Not only that, but yet again, she has been left alone, in a room completely foreign to her. There’s no sign of Saix or Marluxia or any other Black Coat for that matter. For a few minutes, she only lies in the bed, staring lazily at the ceiling, wallowing in her own frustration. 

She sighs deeply and closes her eyes. For a moment, she entertains the idea of getting up and searching for a way out: but the smallest shift argues the thought, her body protesting harshly. 

 “ _ God...it even hurts to breath. Between face planting into the dirt, passing out twice, and getting carried around like a sack of potatoes, I guess I’m not surprised.  Still,”  _  A soft whine escapes her as she rolls onto her side, trying to get comfortable, “ _ this is gonna make the next few days very. unpleasant.” _

__ **_“I’m sorry, you were expecting a spa and some massage chairs?”_ **

**_“_ ** _ Oh, just save it would you? I already feel like trash, and your input really isn’t needed.” _ The nagging voice in her head gives up fairly easily- that is, compared to the usual stubbornness it portrays. She decides to chalk that up to the mental exhaustion and lack of sleep. Real sleep anyways. “ _ But there’s no way I can lay here forever...ugh…this is gonna feel like a horse-kick from Hell…” _

With the enthusiasm of a high-school student that has just woken up to find it’s only Tuesday, she works her way onto her stomach and slowly pushes up onto her elbows. Next, to get into a sitting position…

She drops back into the pile of pillows, her arms falling out from under her. If anyone had been in the room, they would have heard an unmistakable, muffled groan.

 “ _ Damn...I suppose I’ll have to take the ‘6 AM-and-I-got-two-hours-of-sleep’ approach to this. Which, I suppose, is pretty fitting for the current situation.” _

Her resolve strengthening a little now, and the last bit of grogginess giving way to stubborn determination, Mira begins army crawling across the king-sized bed. Upon reaching the edge, she allows herself to simply ease down to the floor. To her great relief, it is nowhere near as icy as the ground of the infirmary had been. Through a bit of maneuvering, she soon finds herself on her feet, bracing against the wall for a bit of support. Blankets, sheets and all are strewn across the floor in an ocean of blank material.

For the next few minutes, Mira attempts a few soft stretches, hoping to get some blood pumping through her lead-filled body. Although it does little for removing the weight, it does simmer the pain to a mild ache. Now able to stand on her own, she takes a few steps forward, examining the rest of the bedroom with a curious eye. 

Upon first glance, something about the room unnerves her a little, and she can’t place her finger on exactly what it is. Only when memories of the infirmary and the room with the column chairs flash through her mind does she realize- there’s hardly a spot of color or decoration anywhere. Even during her short time in the lab she’d noticed it, but had been too preoccupied to pay the idea any attention. Seeing it now, she’s filled with the same discomfort that first overtook her around the Black Coats. There’s an image of an asylum. She tries to focus on anything else. 

The only piece of furniture within the entire space is the bed. No dressers, no tables, no chairs. Not even a mirror. Windowless, and with only one, most certainly locked, door, her odds of escape seem to drift away into nothingness. Suddenly, through her peripheral, she notices a small shimmer. In the opposite corner of the room is a silver handle, appearing to be attached to the wall. Upon closer inspection, she finds a trap door that opens up into what she suspects to be a laundry chute. Hope skyrockets for a brief moment, and then dwindles back into dust. 

 “ _ Too small to fit in.” _ She sighs inwardly.  _ “How dare these cultist-wannabes actually show up prepared. Where’s the fun in that?” _

_  “ _ **_I have a feeling these guys don’t really aim for ‘fun’. More like ‘Quick and simple’ with a  personality side of ‘monotone math teacher’._ **

Shaking her head at the voice, Mira opens up the door, if only to assure it really is a chute. She’s proven correct, but is mildly surprised with what she finds. Inside, folded neatly on the platform, is a pile of clothes. She almost feels grateful; and then she unfolds the first piece.

  “You have  _ got _ to be kidding me.” She scoffs aloud. Part of her wants to laugh at the irony of it. 

    They'd given her a black cloak. 

   “Yeah, no. I'd rather square up with the baboon again than spend a minute in this over-sized rag. Next!”

    Balling the coat up, she tosses it as far across the room as possible, before turning to examine her other options; a plain t-shirt and sweater shirt; one pair of women’s joggers; a pack of socks; undergarments; even a hair tie. All the perfect size for her. All the same color of an empty void. 

**_“Okay, but is it not concerning how everything here is our size? Is that not just a_ ** **little** **_creepy?”_ **

 “Gotta agree with you there….” She murmurs, knowing full well that she’s replying to a voice in her head. 

Just as she’s debating whether or not she wants to change, the sound of heavy footsteps nears the outside of the door. Without hesitation, Mira slams the laundry chute shut and begins to scramble to the farthest corner of the room, before thinking better of it. She’d only be trapping herself further. As the unexpected company stops directly outside her door, she halts at the foot of the bed. Her nails dig into the wooden frame. Should she charge? Should she hide? 

She’s got no time to find an answer. 

Instead of swinging inward or outward, the door slides into the wall. The Black Coat that enters is forced to duck as they step through the doorway, so as not to smack their head against the wall. Although, the image does fill Mira with enough amusement for her lips to twitch traitorously. Tucking it into the back of her mind for the time being, she instead tries to focus on the confrontation at hand. Despite it not showing on her face, she does recognize the figure in front of her. They’re the same one from the lab.

 “ **_Be careful what you wish for, huh?”_ **

Begrudgingly, she admits that the voice isn’t wrong. Still, she'd prefer to get through this without taking another blow, and to do that, she'll have to be somewhat cooperative. 

She keeps a loose stance, but a warning expression. Her company seems to understand well enough. They pause a few feet away, and lower their own guard just slightly. They don’t say a word. Mira waits patiently, raising her eyebrows, but the lock on her lips remains. After what she can only assume is heavy contemplation, they surprise her with a single word. 

 “Lexaeus.” 

_ “Eh?” _

He-yet again,  _ another  _ guy-had spoken rather tersely. It was as if he’d taken the word and simply dropped it at her feet. No explanation. No forewarning. In return, she delivers him a look that wouldn’t take a genius to understand. 

“ _ What do you expect me to do with this?” _

Her brows furrow slightly as the hood shakes softly. He gives a quick huff of breath. Then, reaching up-slowly, so as not to disturb the fragile truce hovering in the air-the fabric hiding his face is lowered. Almost immediately, he eyes spring up to examine the person before her.

Although she’d called this man a gorilla, she hadn’t expected him to  _ actually _ resemble one. A strong, square jaw leads up to sharp cheekbones on a rather lean face. Eyes that seem to rest in a narrowed position match her gaze in intensity, the blueness of them nearly matching her own. Small, thick eyebrows point downwards towards a broad nose, which rests above his tightly set lips. Reverting her gaze back upwards, towards his hair, Mira has to do a bit of a double take. The strange mane is the same orangey-red as his brows, but is styled in such a...unique fashion. Despite herself, the girl can’t help but picture a cartoon character that had been struck by lightning. She purses her lips in silent judgement. 

_ “ _ **_It looks like this guy got into a fight with a toaster…”_ **

 “My name is Lexaeus.” His voice, demanding of attention even at such a low tone, quickly silences her inner criticisms. As the name rolls around in her head, she is certain to make note of it. “I will be escorting you to the kitchen for your meals today.” 

And that was that. Lexaeus beckons for her to follow him and he moves back towards the door. She wants to be resilient; stay there in that room for as long as she’ll be physically allowed; deny the fact that she’s even hungry at all, and turn her nose up at their offers of food. She wants to rush past him, out the door, and see how far she can get before she’s caught. But, of course, she can’t do any of that. 

Especially not after her stomach whines loudly at the mention of breakfast. 

Mira clutches her grumbling abdomen and squints down at it as if it had intentionally betrayed her. She knows that Lexaeus had heard it. Lord, she’d be surprised if anyone within a three-room radius hadn't. Thinking back on it, she has to acknowledge the fact that she hadn't eaten for what is at least two days now. The day of her capture, she'd skipped lunch, and of course, lost her chance at dinner, so she isn't really shocked. That doesn't make any less degrading, however, when she has to heel to the inevitable.

 “ _ Damn it all….” _

__           Keeping her glowing expression to the floor, Mira allows her sock-feet to drag forward towards the man. For the first time since her arrival, she's grateful of the silence that ensues after an encounter with a Black Coat. This ‘Lexaeus’ seems content with simply getting her to amble along beside him, as they make slow progress down a long, empty hallway. 

***

Alright. Now, Mira is nothing if not resilient. Throughout her life, she’d learned to rely  _ heavily _ on her willpower and stubbornness- meaning that most temptations have little to no effect on her. Her years living alone have taught her to doubt everything and everyone, no matter how promising first impressions may be. And she was really hoping that that instinct wouldn't leave her now, when she needed it most. 

            But of course, things haven't exactly been going her way recently.

            Nearly every ounce of hard-headedness seems to throw itself away as she's nudged into the dining area. The heavy aroma of food had crept quite a ways away from the kitchen, so she'd been able to smell it several minutes before they arrived. She'd tightened her resolve and sworn to eat as little as possible (apparently while deciding this, she'd been humming and nodding to herself, earning her a strange look from Lexaeus. She'll have to be sure to watch herself for that in the future). If she was being honest, there hadn't been high expectations for the meal anyways. After all, what is the chance that any of these egotistical sociopaths actually knowing how to cook anyways? 

 “ **Obviously, it’s a lot more plausible than we thought.”**

Much more plausible indeed. For now, she stands facing an entire  _ array _ of dishes that cover nearly every inch of the large table in front of her. In just a quick glance she can see hash-browns, western eggs, plain toast (with several options of jellies and jams), french toast and iced pastries. And that hardly covers it all. She can almost see the cloud of delectable scents rising above the buffet-worthy setting, all of them singing her name in a siren’s song. Her stomach may as well be crying tears of joy as it begs her to dig in. Her mouth waters insistently. The only thing that keeps her fixed in place is the complete and utter awe that has overtaken her. 

 “ _ It could be poisoned, it could be poisoned, it could be poisoned, it could be-” _ Her conscience whispers incessantly as her gaze snakes down over the overwhelming display. 

 “You can eat it. It’s safe, I swear.” Lexaeus’ hefty voice breaks through her stupor, reminding her of her current situation. Blinking rapidly and shaking her head, she manages a suspicious glance in his direction, before stepping towards the nearest tray. Her body language all but paints her internal debate as she picks up a piece of french toast and nibbles it tentatively. 

 “ _ Holy biscuits, this is actually really good…and I’m not picking up on any rat poison. God, must I be such a sucker for good food?”  _ Almost without realizing it, the girl begins to indulge herself, devouring several more pieces of the sweet bread. 

 “ _ I must.” _

Her hunger takes the reins and soon she’s moving from plate to plate, ‘sampling’ every delectable that doesn’t require silverware. It’s only when she’s halfway through her second strawberry pastry that she notices how her company’s eyes follow her around the room, and something of  mix between mirth and curiosity hide behind them. That in itself is enough to pause her hoggish feasting. Wiping her mouth on the long sleeve of her navy-blue shirt, she tries to flare of shame from being caught in such a wild state. His expression remains impassive, but, when he does speak, there’s more vigor to his words than there’d been before.

 “Everything is actually edible then?” It is a completely honest question. Mira responds by taking another large bite of the danish in her hand, slowly, and without breaking eye contact. “Hmm. Zexion must have been true to his word then. Very few here can actually make a half-decent meal. Be happy you got his cooking instead of...well, say Vexen’s or Larxene’s.”

He gives an exaggerated shudder before approaching the space beside her. Stuffing the rest of the flaky delight into her mouth, she quickly scuffles to the far end of the table. To her mild surprise, Lexaeus only stops where she’d been moments before and helps himself to a slice of toast. Crumbs that scatter across the floor are disregarded as he takes a butter knife- something she’s completely overlooked earlier- from the plate and helps himself to a generous scoop of strawberry jam. 

Now having gained a bit of sustenance, Mira is able to gather her composure a little. Her taste buds still crave more, but she finds the whole situation too...casual. He talks as though she isn’t being held prisoner; as if she’s some newbie employee that just needs to get comfortable in her surroundings. Well, this is undoubtedly one of the most  _ uncomfortable _ situations she’s ever been in. Nobody just accepts breakfast with their captors as a regular occasion. Nobody. 

 “ **_But. There. Are. Giant. Cinnamon Rolls.”_ **

**“** _ What.” _

The sudden proclamation from her snarky subconscious causes her to jolt at attention and hunt along the smorgasbord until she sees it. A pyramid. Of face-sized. Fresh-out-of-the-oven. Cinnamon rolls. 

 “ _ I hate these people. I hate them. I absolutely despise them.”  _ It echos like a mantra in her head as she swiftly scoots past the munching giant, stopping to stare intensely at the baked goods, on which the icing is still melting over the sides. “ _ These are bad people. Very bad people. I shouldn’t trust anything they give me.” _

Needless to say, when they left, Mira did not go empty handed. 


	5. Cause and Effect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One might think that a group of full-grown Organization members could keep track of a teenage girl within their own walls. And in this case, one would be wrong.   
>  Finding a chance to break away, Mira finds herself momentarily free from her abductor's grasp. However, it's very difficult to remain undiscovered in an unfamiliar place. And, as our heroine soon learns, it is very difficult to keep a clear conscience when you're so used to dealing with guilt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good evening everyone!!! I am so, SO sorry this took as long as it did. I meant to write more this summer, but the first half had me busy going all sorts of places, and the second half had me unbelievably sick. I'm not even joking there, I was miserable and quarantined for nearly two weeks, and even now that I'm MOSTLY better, I'm still struggling with certain things. BUT MOVING ON, I wanted to rewrite this chapter because when I first put it out I was exhausted and stressed and so burnt out, and I honestly rushed it. It was not my best work in any way. So I've taken time to fix it and extend it (and am also playing with a few new style things). I feel a lot better about it now, and hope you guys can enjoy it as well. I also have the next chapter nearly finished, and am starting the one after that, so hopefully I won't have to take a break like that again. I thank you immensely for you patience, and here's to future chapters turning out right!

Mira had heard the phrase ‘from 0 to 100’ many times before, and figured she knew pretty well what it meant; the feeling that accompanied it. But, as she is quickly learning, she doesn’t  _ really _ know as much as she thought she did. The past few days have provided her with many revelations, and now she can add one more to that list

As it had been, she was strolling alongside Lexaeus, tearing into the third of her nabbed cinnamon rolls (since she’d been so rudely deprived of her baker’s dozen the other night), and was leaving behind a crumb trail that would have made Hansel and Gretel proud. The hallways had been completely empty the entire time they’d been walking. And then the moment came when she had paused, taking her sweet time in licking the icing off of her fingers…

...and she’d heard music. 

It wasn’t very loud. Just a simple melody of low chords, swimming through the air. And it portrayed a feeling of...not so much melancholy, but something close to boredom. As if the player were playing just to play as they wandered aimlessly. If Mira strained her ears, she could just barely make out the underlying sound of approaching footsteps. Her curiosity piqued, and she’d shuffled ahead to follow the sound. Behind her, Lexaeus had released a sort of ‘ _ here-we-go’ _ sigh before trailing along.

Then, during her hunt, she’d turned a corner and immediately collided with another body. They’d both gone to the ground with short ‘ _ Oomph _ ’s, the other clinging tightly to something as they went down. Two heads of blonde hair had shot up, and two sets of wide, blue eyes made contact- the second pair being much darker than Mira’s own, sporting an impressive ocean blue. 

And before she knew it, this man was back on his feet, apologizing loudly, and offering a helping hand. 

 

Back in the present, the stunned girl accepts his assistance, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet. The moment she’s up again, the stranger gives a small gasp. 

  “Hey, hold up! You’re the new girl, right?” Without giving her a chance to respond, he places a hand on her shoulder and gives a joyful smile. Bits of excitement lace themselves between his lively words. “The name’s Demyx! Nice to meet’cha!”

That’ll do it. This completely out-of-nowhere, in-her-face kindness throws Mira for a loop, stealing any stable ground she had out from under her. Of course, Lexaeus himself hasn’t been  _ awful _ to her- since their original encounter, at least- but ‘friendly’ isn’t how she’d describe the attitude he’d had during their time together. And then, here was this one- this ‘Demyx’- radiating the most positive, goofy, and welcoming aura that could possibly come from a human being. Definitely not what she was prepared for. Her defenses are momentarily shattered, and she actually stammers out a greeting. 

  “Uh...He-hello?” Noting the obvious uncertainty in her voice, the older blonde takes on a wry expression. 

  “Man, that was weak. You doin’ alright? Didn’t hit your head when you fell, did’ja?” Quite suddenly, he seems to take notice of Lexaeus, who’d been watching the interaction silently, just a few feet away. “What’d ya do to the poor girl, Lex? She’s all tense and jumpy.”

  “I didn’t do anything. Why are you over in this wing?” The older man replies rather flatly. 

**“** Hey, easy dude. It gets boring around here when everyone’s off on missions. I was just gonna check on the newbie.” Another small, apologetic glance in her direction, “So much for first impressions.”

  “You aren’t supposed to be here. Xemnas made the limitations very clear.”

  “So what, you’re gonna report me?”

  “I should. It would keep you out of my hair.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean!”

The conversation quickly spirals into an argument, tearing the attention away from Mira, who watches this back and forth with a lost expression. She’s still caught with a bit of energetic whiplash, and it takes a certain voice inviting itself to the party for her to snap back to her senses. 

  “ **_Hey, damsel in distress!”_ ** It barks, calling her attention into her mind, “ **_How about instead of standing here and watching the married couple bicker, we leave while we’ve got the chance? Or maybe you want stay for the dramatics?”_ **

**_“_ ** _ Right, right!”  _

She scolds herself mentally for nearly letting this opportunity pass. Eyes focused intently on the pair in front of her, she begins scooching away: first as an agonizingly slow pace, then with swift, light steps. Once roughly ten feet away, Mira flies off into a sprint, whirling herself around and taking off down the nearest corridor. Her sock feet [1] fall hard against the floor, giving off a sharp  _ pat _ noise. Demyx is the first one alerted by this, catching a mere glimpse before she’s disappeared around a corner. 

  “Heya Lex?” He starts rather nonchalantly, cutting an agitated Lexaeus off mid-sentence, “Not sure if this is important, but the kid just ditched us.”

  “She wha- Wait! No!” The redhead spins on his heel to find the space where Mira had just been empty. He gives a low growl, and sneers at his coworker, “Damn you Demyx!” 

He rushes after her, leaving the melodious nocturne stranded, and once again, alone. 

Meanwhile, Mira is winging her way through a maze of hallways at full speed. Lexaeus hollering behind her does nothing besides force more length into her strides. Long hair jostles back over her shoulders, allowing her to keep her eyes peeled for any sudden obstacles. Her heartbeat pounds through her body: combined with the adrenaline pumping through her veins, it makes an electricity that tingles across her skin, and shocks her with every footfall. A bubble of exhilaration forms in her chest, expanding into her throat until it’s forced out a few huffs of breathless laughter. 

She’d left them in her dust.

Taking random turn after random turn, Mira finds herself pausing only to weave in and out of rooms, just to see what they hold. At one point, she finds herself flying down a small slope in the floor and discovering an abundance of interesting spaces; first a library, and across from it, a study; down the hall, an impressive greenhouse; and not far from that, the laboratory from her first night. Briefly, she pauses, toying with the idea of ducking for cover in the familiar area. But over her shallow breaths, she can hear distant conversation…which seems to be getting closer.

Without a second thought, she’s on her way again: however, with her lungs begging for air, she’s forced to fall back into a speedy shuffle. 

  “ _ I need to find somewhere to lay low. There’s too many of these guys around right now for me to feel comfortable wandering.” _

After doing a thorough check of her surroundings, Mira allows herself to crouch down against a wall, resting while she contemplates. Closing her eyes, she envisions a roulette wheel of all her options, knowing that, at this point, any one of these rooms could end up in capture. The ball spins round and round, before finally landing on the idea of returning to the greenhouse- which was conveniently  _ filled _ with large plants and thick walls of vines. Serious consideration makes this out to be her best shot, and within minutes, she’s  slipping in the doorway, sneaking farther and farther into the humid, man-made jungle. 

 

[1]-  _ They had returned her sneakers, but she didn’t see much point in putting them on for just walking the halls. She had, instead, taken the socks from the pile of clothes they’d supplied her with. At this point, she’s also (begrudgingly) changed into the black t-shirt and joggers, simply because the filth of her old outfit was unbearable.  _

***

 

Mira isn’t sure how long she’s been sitting under the nearly seven foot tall flora standing boastfully in its pot. She’s been gone for a few hours now, surely. Healthy, green leaves brush against her face every so often as they sway in an untraceable breeze. At one point, she takes a gentle hold on the stalk and bends it down (Carefully. No need to harm an innocent plant after all) close enough for her to feel the baby pink petals of its proud funnelform flowers. They’re soft, and well complemented by the custard-yellow bulb in their center. A faint, yet bitter-sweet fragrance takes to the air around them: but, recalling how a similar scent had put her under at one point, the concerned teen leans back and warily eyes the label stuck in the soil.

‘Alcea (Hollyhock)’

Nothing about the name sets off any alarms in her head, although she can’t recall the exact title they’d used for the red and black petals from before. Still, preferring to be more safe than sorry, she finds herself slowly releasing the plant and scooching away. 

  “ _ I should get moving anyways.”  _ She finds herself thinking. “ _ Haven't heard anyone pass by in a while.” _

Mira stands. 

She stretches. 

She yawns. 

  “Hey ‘Luxia! You in here? Boss man is lookin’ for you, and he seems pretty- ”

She freezes. 

In front of her stands a woman. A woman whose sudden, shocked expression mirrors her own as their eyes meet. Her’s are a shadowy cyan. A petite frame goes rigid as they stare each other down, and Mira surprised to find that she looks down on this stranger. Her pale, doll-like face is framed by bright, jaw-length, blond hair. Only two strands on top stick up, seeming almost like antennae of a bug. The younger’s few extra inches of height don’t help much, however, as the aura surrounding the other is enough to send her shrinking in on herself. And as the elder’s face morphs into a more twisted sneer, the indistinguishable feeling of  _ ‘threat’  _ fills the air.

  “ _ Oh. That is...she is not happy to see me.” _

_   “ _ **_I’d say that’s putting it lightly! She is_ ** **_pissed_ ** **_!”_ **

   “YOU!” The snarled shout causes Mira to jump back and press against the wall. The woman advances forward, lips turned up into a sneer. Her small, fearsome figure stops mere inches away. “We’ve been looking all over for you, you little  _ rat _ ! You just  _ had _ to go and run off, didn’t you? Well, I hope you’ve had a  _ grand _ old time doing whatever  _ the hell _ it is you’ve done these past three hours. Meanwhile, the rest of us have had to take some seriously degrading criticism from Xemnas for losing you- even though  _ Lexaeus _ was the one that lost track of you in the first place! And it was only because that useless, waste-of-a-coat, guitarist decided to be where he wasn’t meant to!” The venom tracing those last words was nearly enough to make Mira shudder. With blazes of hatred in her eyes, the older blonde latches on to the girl’s wrist, yanking her forward to harshly that Mira stumbles to reclaim her footing. “Screw this. I’m taking you back to Saix, and  _ he _ can deal with you. This was supposed to be my day off, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to finish it in peace!”

The suggestion of return is enough to kick Mira into gear. She’d let herself be dragged several feet, but now begins twisting and digging her heels into the floor. It’s a valiant effort, but one that does her little good: for as soon as she begins to struggle, a searing, powerful shock races up her arm and all across her torso. And this isn’t a small, rubbed-your-hair-with-a-balloon shock. This was as though she’d stuck a fork in a socket. The breath is squeezed from her lungs in one short but anguished yelp. If the hand holding her had been any looser, she would have been thrown to the ground in an instant. A good portion of her body goes numb with the tingling sensation of pins and needles, and her hazed mind tries to catch up on what just happened. Feeling horribly fried, she gapes at her opposition. In return, she only receives a small side glance and a pretentious smirk.

  “I’m sorry, did that hurt? Good. Maybe it’ll teach you better than to cause me problems in the future. Now keep moving!”

 

The trip back can’t take more than ten minutes; but it is a very long and painful ten minutes. Poor Mira is dragged by her arm like a disobedient dog, sharply filed nails digging relentlessly into her skin. If ever the fuming woman thinks Mira is being too slow or lagging behind, another shock will burn through already twitching nerves. By the time they reach their apparent destination, the younger blonde is uncontrollable jumpy and dealing with burns all the way up to her collarbone. Her heart is beating unusually fast, and the slightest hint of lightheadedness is beginning to take over. 

To her greatest possible relief, they finally come around to a group of three black coats, all gathered around a low table; the kind that provide heat, with a blanket around the edges. A kotatsu, Mira manages to recall. 

Stopping a few feet away, the electric woman all but tosses Mira forward, and the girl fumbles forward until she’s on her knees, leaning against the surface of the furniture. All three heads swivel in her direction; notably, none of them with their hoods up. Not willing to spare a second, she spins around and begins walking away, calling over her shoulder. 

  “I found the brat. She was hiding out in Marluxia’s garden. Figured you might want her back.” Electric woman’s tone makes it feel as though Mira was an  _ object _ that had been lost, rather than a prisoner who had escaped. Understandably enough, this makes the younger silently fume. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to try and  _ enjoy _ the rest of my vacation day. Anything else happens, don’t bother to call me.”

  “Larxene, stop.”

The woman stops. The man who had called her back has a very familiar voice, prompting Mira to lift her head and inspect him closely. Long, frowzy blue hair is pushed back behind unusual, elf-like ears- ears that are pierced with small silver studs, which catch a bit of light as he shifts in his position. She watches as his hazel eyes lock onto the red marks all along her arm, flickering over one, then another. Each seems to add to the menace flaring up behind his hazel eyes. A large, cross-shaped scar that meets at the bridge of his nose furrows deeply with his brows. 

  “What happened to her arm?” It’s an inquiry that isn’t allowed to be left unanswered. The nag in the back of Mira’s mind suddenly clicks into place as she focuses on the man’s voice instead of his words. 

  “ _ It’s Saix.” _

  “How should I know? Maybe she made a pit stop in the Mad Lab and decided to play with some chemicals. She  _ was _ right next door.” Larxene’s response is cool and nonchalant. 

  “ **_Oh, the nerve of that-!”_ **

             Mira makes no attempt soften the livid ranting of the voice in her head. Not when she herself is equally outraged. This woman had offered out the lie with such a level of cool that she may as well have been stating her own name. Thankfully, the teens intense glower and grinding teeth does not go unnoticed. Saix catches her eye briefly, holding her gaze for a moment before continuing. 

 "Do you honestly think me that moronic?” He starts quietly, “Those are electrical burns, and fresh ones at that. Perhaps you'd like to tell me,  _ honestly _ , why you found it necessary to discipline her yourself? That is, instead of doing your job  _ the proper way _ and delivering her to me  _ immediately  _ after discovering her whereabouts?”

Larxene goes silent for a few beats. When she finally turns to make eye contact with Saix, an awful sneer creeping up her face. 

  “She ruined my vacation day.” 

  “That’s no excuse for-”

  “Like Hell it isn’t! We got scolded like unruly children for losing her Saix! When  _ she  _ ran off, and  _ Demyx _ was the reason she got away! I don’t know what Xemnas is thinking, bringing  _ another _ damn kid in here-”

  “Larxene.”

  “-but what he  _ needs _ to do is just turn her alrea-”

  “LARXENE!” 

  “WHAT!”

  “Be. Quiet.”

The blonde splutters for a few moments, trying to voice, what Mira can only assume to be, a string of indecencies that don’t quite come out right. And then, she stops, clenching her jaw so tightly her teeth groan. Without another word, she whirls around and struts away.

With Larxene gone, all the attention gets redirected back to Mira. Luckily, the fuzziness in her head has cleared significantly, and the numbness in her arm has softened to mild pins and needles. Cradling her injured appendage against her chest, she looks up at the three men before her. She hopes that the wave of exhaustion currently crashing over her body is hidden behind the wariness in her eyes. Wariness that truly doesn’t extend very far at this point, but that isn’t something that  _ they _ need to know. 

The black coat opposite of Saix beckons at her, which she takes as a sign to reveal her aching arm. She glances at each of them individually...before slowly stretching it out across the table. Saix, having already examined the marks closely, merely sighs in agitation. The man to her right remains strangely impassive, his deep blue-violet eyes glimmering in contemplation. Across from her, a man with black and grey striped hair, pulled into a ponytail, supplies a small shake of his head and a rueful smile. 

  “Got’cha pretty good, didn’t she kiddo?”

Her worst situation now mostly diffused, Mira takes time to observe the other two presences.

The man across from her is sporting and patch over his right eye that draws her attention almost immediately. A long jagged scar reaches up from the left side of his face, ending just below his good eye: said eye is an unbelievable shade of gold, glimmering with hidden secrets, and mischief. His smug grin manages to both unnerve and intrigue her simultaneously. To her, this indicates a man who knows more than he lets on. A man who’s seen all of Hell and strolled out with the key to its gates. 

Thoroughly perturbed, she decides to turn her gaze over to the silent man on her right. The air surrounding him is on an entirely different spectrum compared to Stripes. He seems to be avoiding contact with her entirely; having shifted away when she’d first taken a seat, and now refusing to even glance in her direction. Now facing away from the light, his dark eyes appear not blue, but black. A strong jaw is set tightly, and thick eyebrows are deeply furrowed. Healthy black hair is braided in a series of thick dreadlocks that occasionally shift in some unfelt breeze, with only a pair of well-kept sideburns left undisturbed. Overall, Mira can’t get a good, clear read on him, which is enough to land him in her ‘ _ Avoid as often as possible’  _ category. 

Her focus is pulled from her studies when the tense silence is fractured by Saix. He clears his throat as pushes himself to his feet.

  “You two, take her to Vexen. Have him look at those burns and do what he can for them. I’m going to inform Xemnas of the girl’s return.” 

  “Gonna tell him about Larxene?” Stripes asks.  

  “In a way. I don’t approve of what she did, by any means, but…” Here, the stoney man turns his chilling eyes on her, “she was partly correct. We were made to look like fools today, at no fault of our own. So, I’ll simply compromise.”

  “Compromise huh?” Stripes chuckles almost mockingly, “Lemmie know how that goes for ya. The big man seems to have a sixth sense when it comes to lies. He likes to pick ‘em apart.”

  “Perhaps. But who’s to say I’m lying?”

With that, he’s summoned a dark portal, and is gone. Mira stares at the empty space where he’d been, milling everything over. She wishes she could take this more seriously; wishes she felt more repulsion than she does. But Larxene’s words play over and over again in her mind like a scratched record. They make her feel something...

  “ _...the rest of us have had to take some seriously degrading criticism…!” _

_   “...got scolded like unruly children for losing her…!” _

Guilty.

They make her feel guilty. 

That disturbing fact continues to simmer in her mind as she comes to a stand, following the actions of Stripes and the silent man. She trails behind them wordlessly as they begin sauntering out of the room, heading back in the direction of the lab. She’s only able to reach a conclusion as to  _ why _ after they’ve been walking for several minutes. She realizes that it’s because she herself has been punished on the behalf of others before: because she knows the confusion; the humiliation; the frustration. It’s a situation that is unbelievably unfair. 

These thoughts bouncing around in her head, she glances upwards, watching the backs her of escorts. They don’t seem terribly concerned with her at the moment, Stripes rambling on about something or other in a lazy tone, and the seeming mute bobbing his head on occasion. Funny how disregard was the thing that got them into this mess, and yet they’re hardly batting an eye in her direction now. Although, maybe they know that escape attempts are the farthest thing from her mind right now. 

Within a couple minutes, they've entered the familiar hallway and crossed the threshold into the lab. Looking around, Mira notices that not much has changed since she was last here. Shelves are still filled with messy piles of books, papers, and containers. Unusual looking machines hum and bip in greeting as they pass by. And even though the hot and humid greenhouse lies right next door, the entire section manages to remain at a far- below-comfortably-cold temperature. She rubs her arms in an attempt to warm herself. 

  “Oh Vexen!” Stripes drawls, coming to a stand still as his voice echoes through the vast laboratory, “Come out, come out wherever you are! We require some of your medical _ expertise _ my friend!”

He’s met with only a rejective silence. His arms cross over his chest and his head tilts slightly. 

  "You're really gonna try and ignore us? That's real cute of you."

  "Vexen." Mira jerks in surprise. Beside them, the previously silent man had finally spoken, barking out the name much more forcefully that Stripes had. "You cannot avoid the situation at hand. None of us have that luxury at the moment, and if we have to deal with this, so do you. Now, you can stop hiding from your responsibilities and come look at the child's wounds,  _ or _ we can get Xemnas involved. Your choice."

From behind a nearby shelf, Mira hears a small curse, the sound of ruffled papers, and then scuffling footsteps. Coming into view is a tall, gangly man with straight, dirty blonde hair about as long as her own. He has a long, angular sort of face and startlingly large, green eyes that narrow as he approaches. Pausing several feet away, he turns to her with disdain in his expression. He must take notice of the angry marks across her skin, then, because he immediately scoffs.

  “ _ Larxene _ .” 

Stripes raises an eyebrow, but manages to appear unsurprised all the same. “You could tell?”

  “Obviously. Those are clearly electrical burns, and only  _ she _ would let her temper get the better of her when dealing with our stubborn little subject here. It’s not exactly rocket science.” Vexen glances at Mira briefly, then turns with a wave of his hand. “Come along then. I’ll see what I can do.”

And so, she finds herself sitting on a bench, legs swinging lightly. During the next half hour, Mira quickly discovers that, despite the scientist's weak looking frame and slight jittery tendencies, he certainly isn't an unhealthy man. Moving with a fluid confidence around the infirmary, he never once falters or breaks his giat. Could he be a little less rushed with his treatment? Certainly. But Mira can't say she's surprised.

  " _ Clearly _ ," She finds herself thinking, with a wince, as Vexen applies an ointment to her burns just a bit too harshly, " _ That woman isn't the only one who's holding a grudge." _

Frowning, she looks up. Across the room, Stripes is leaning against the wall, surveying his surroundings in a slow, lazy manner. Unimpressed, he yawns. Nearby, the Silent man (who  _ has _ gone stubbornly silent once more) is reading the backs of various medical books he finds in stacks on shelves. Neither even bother with a glance in her direction. She finds herself spacing out as she stares on. Inside her mind, a war wages on. It rattles her brain until she's entirely overwhelmed: frowning at an empty space and chewing the inside of her cheek. [2] Eventually, she comes to a harsh conclusion...

...and she sighs. 

  “...I’m sorry.” 

Two words. Two words, mumbled far below her breath. Two words that she almost didn't want to be heard. But as soon as she utters them, all three men jerk to a pause. She’d been sure to taste the words thoroughly before stating them: rolling them over her tongue again and again until they’d become heavy and bitter. Then, she’d brought them back. Leveling them out just enough, so that there wasn’t too much sincerity in their delivery. But, she had to ensure there was enough conviction there for them to believe it true. Only Stripes raises his head to look at her. 

  “What did you say?” Vexen hisses from his place at a nearby cupboard. The air in the room becomes filled with an energy that she can only describe as flammable- like the wrong reply could suddenly set the whole space ablaze.

  “I said I’m sorry.” She suddenly looks up and narrows her eyes, glaring at each of them in turn, “Don’t take that the wrong way. If I get another chance to run off, I’m going to take it. You all are bat-shit insane, and I don't plan on hanging around just because the superiority complex you call a boss  _ says so _ . I only regret getting found again. But it's not fair that literally  _ all _ of you got in trouble for something only  _ two _ did wrong. So…I'm sorry about  _ that _ . And only that!"

Now Vexen looks at her. Vibrant green eyes scrutinize her very soul, searching for some truth behind her words. His mouth presses into a thin line as he turns to Stripes, then the 'mute'. Something silent flows between them; a conversation completely unreadable to the teen on the bench. Eventually, the darker haired men nod. Righting himself, Stripes calls out to her. 

  "C'mon kiddo. Think it's about supper time."

His unusually flat tone sets Mira on edge, putting hesitation into her movements as she slides off the medical table and steps across the room. He grins at her, but something in his eyes is...off. Dreadlocks exits first, and he's quick to follow. Now confused and suspicious Mira peeks once more at Vexen before leaving. 

The older blonde's back faces her. He's bent over a counter, scribbling words down jerkily into a notebook. 

  
[2]-  _ If Vexen finds this at all strange, he doesn't voice any concerns. _


	6. Many Faces Face Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Hello everyone, this is The Voice In Mira's Head,welcoming you back to another edition of "13 grown fools that don't know how to take care of a one (1) single teenager"! Today, we watch as every single person in the castle manages to forget about Mira's existence, and then get angry with HER when they get in trouble...again. Honestly, you'd really think these idiots would set an alarm or something. BUT, lucky for us, there seems to be a softer presence among the crowd of crazies, and thanks to him, we live! And then of course my overly-sensitive host has to have a moral crisis later on, and lands us in a tough position. What might that be? Well, guess you'll have to read and find out, won't ya? Enjoy strangers!*

**_1 Week, 2 Days_ **

 

Routines are something that are generally formed through accident and instinct.  Even the most organized people tend to have a hard time forcing a habit on themselves, and the more they try, the more they seem to fail. Especially if it’s concerning something they aren’t horribly invested in- that in itself must be obvious. But this ideal can be negated if one simple aspect is thrown into the mix; a sense of duty. Because often, the things you  _ have _ to do, are not the things you _ want _ to do, but responsibility and the hope for praise overpower that demon that is procrastination, whispering sweet nothings in your ear about better ways to spend your time. 

This proves quite true for the members of Organization XIII. See, none of them are exactly thrilled about (another) child occupying The World That Never Was, and some were more...vocal about it, than others. But it is that exact sense of duty that drives them to continue “babysitting” the girl they’d taken on, under Xemnas’ orders. [1]  And through the pure coincidence of scheduling, a routine begins to take form; 

Lexaeus is always free during the mornings, so he’s sent to escort Mira to breakfast. During the afternoon, Saix takes it upon himself to “check in” with her as they wander aimlessly through the corridors after lunch. [2] By which, ‘checking in’ means he gives her a once over to make sure she isn’t on fire or bleeding out. When there is a rare exchange between the two, attitudes are still tense, to say the least- although an optimist would point out that she is  _ talking _ now, even if it is in short, basic sentences. As the day crawls along to evening, it’s always a coin flip between Xigbar [3]  and Luxord, an older member who seems to take immense pride in his scruffy, grandfather-esq appearance. Both men give off a strange ‘Ex-hitman' sort of vibe, and yet, against her better judgement, the teen will often find herself participating in senseless banter with them. They’re definitely dangerous in some sense...but that threatening aura isn’t directed at her- and besides, Luxord will sometimes keep her out a little longer, teaching her how to play Poker in his free time, so she can’t complain too much. 

What she  _ can _ complain about is the lack of engaging material within her so-often-occupied prison. Not a single person was merciful enough to supply her with books or a radio or even a clock to watch the time whittle away on. Any time spent in her room is time spent doing nothing but pacing about and trying to sleep. And if there’s one thing that drives Mira insane, it’s being forced to do nothing for hours on end. In a desperate attempt to tie down her wits, she turns to a meditation of sorts- really, just replaying the events of the past week over and over again. 

It’s hardly a relief, really. 

 

[1]-  _ Obviously, Mira isn’t too thrilled to be ‘babysat’, but she doesn’t have much of a say in the whole thing. _

 

[2] _ -Two things that should be noted here: First, his job was originally given to Larxene, as she’ll only take on missions for later in the day. However, it didn’t take long to realize that this wasn’t going to work, seeing as the blonde had completely ignored this order on the first day, and then feigned ignorance when asked about it.  Secondly, the superior himself instructed Saix to allow daily explorations, in the hopes that Mira would adjust more quickly to the castle. In reality, she uses it as a way to relieve her pent up energy and formulate a mental map of her labyrinth of a prison. _

 

[3]-  _ Mira’s taken to calling him ‘Stripes’ to his face. This allows her to be petty without bringing any wrath upon herself. Although, it’s sort of a mute point, because Xigbar himself seems to find the ‘nickname’ rather amusing.  _

 

**_1 Week, 4 days_ **

 

**Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat-**

Fingers drumming… drum, drum, drumming impatiently on a bedside table. The only sound filling a dead space. A dry tongue licks drier lips almost desperately. Eyes, lazy and half-closed, fixated on the floor. Breaths coming slow and steady, interrupted only by frequent sighs. Numbing boredom, now shifting, twisting into something new. Something expected, and not entirely unwelcome; frustration. Insatiable restlessness adding fuel to the fire, flaring up, held at bay only by a hand pressed into a mattress, clutching tightly to an already crumpled sheet. Hunger making itself known, and latching onto the walls of the stomach, greedy and yearning. Yearning to be sated. A fidgety teen, pausing the scratching and tapping to fall back onto a bed. 

_ The  _ bed. 

_ Her _ bed. 

For the hundredth time that day- and the billionth time that week- Mira sighs. They've forgotten about her. Granted, it’s not the first time-- at one point, Larxene had let an order to escort the girl 'accidentally' slip her mind-- but that had only been one day’s lunch. Now, judging by the painful tightness in her gut, it has to have been at least two days. She’s starting to feel sick; knows she needs to eat, but retches at the idea of food. Her mind is so muddled from lack of engaging activity that she can practically  _ feel _ her brain cells turning to mush. Or perhaps it's the lightheadedness. That sensation had made itself known some time ago, confining Mira to the mattress after it robbed her of any and all balance.

 The only thing keeping her from calling out is pure spite- she won’t remind these people of the power they hold over her. Won't let them know how reliant she is on the daily walks and feedings. It makes her feel like a dog locked in its kennel. But at the same time…

A harsh growl from her abdomen causes heavy waves of discomfort to ripple through her body. Swallowing the hard lump in her throat- which is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore- Mira snakes her hands gently across her aching middle. An unrelenting sharpness has awakened at the base of her skull. She feels rather tired.

****

A third day. Her internal clock is still counting, somehow, through the thundering headache and the choking dryness of her tongue. Her stomach...it feels as though someone has taken a vacuum to her insides, and swept out everything that gave her energy. Perhaps that's a bit dramatic. After all, she isn't dying...yet. At least, it doesn't feel like it. But regardless, it's the truth.There’s a painful tightness in her side that will occasionally well up into a stabbing pain. The dull ache in her head had shot up overnight, and is now a merciless, pounding migraine. A pillow rests over her eyes, blocking out the agonizing brightness of the room around her. Hot and cold wash in alternating waves over her face. A soft, pitiful whine floats from her lips. Time is lost to her as she slips back into the safe space in her mind, hoping to escape her miserable existence.

  " **_We're going to die._ ** " Ever the pessimist, this nagging voice in her head. The mental presence makes itself known, blatantly addressing the greatest concern in the girl’s mind. 

  " _ We aren't…"  _ Her reply holds no confidence. 

  " **_We are. They left us."_ **

She wants to find the will to argue, but at that moment, there's a sudden commotion from the hallway. Mira can't be certain- due to the rhythm of her own heartbeat filling her ears- but it sounds like aggravated shouting, and then, running footsteps. 

  " _ I don't think they did. _ " She retorts, just as the door flies open. She hears two people enter, and, noticing her disposition, one curses under his breath. Shakily, she shifts so that she can  _ just _ see her (sort-of) rescuers, and is met with a disheveled Saix, followed closely by another member that she doesn't recognize.

  "How long has it been Saix?" The stranger murmurs with the voice of a younger man. He wastes no time, approaching her carefully. Taking hold of her wrist, he feels for her pulse. 

  " _ No worries there buddy. It's still going good and strong. Trust me, I can hear it." _

  "Several days." The other states, something wavering in his voice. "We were flooded with missions. No one had the time to worry about anything else."

  " **_It's nice to see they've got their priorities straight. Obviously running errands is more important than caring for your human hostage."_ **

  "She's horribly dehydrated. Go get her some water, would you?" It isn't a question, more so an order phrased like one. There's a pause, as if Saix plans to argue. And then Mira's skin breaks out in goosebumps, and she knows he's opened a portal to leave.

The other man stays with her, always one hand on her wrist, following her pulse. 

  "My, you are in a bad shape, aren't you? This was very careless on their part. Had it not been for Demyx [4] , they might have forgotten you entirely. And what a mess that would have been…"

In her hazy state of mind, Mira decides that she likes this one. There's less anger about him. Not exactly a kindness; but a steady patience maybe? Plus, he obviously holds nothing against  _ her _ , seeing as he only rambles quietly to himself about the others ‘incompetence’ and ‘irresponsibility’. She also appreciates his voice, which stays soft and low, because she isn’t sure if she could handle a much louder volume right now.

It isn’t long before Saix returns with three bottles of water and something small hidden in his palm. Mira allows herself to be slowly sat up from underneath her memory-foam shelter, and is relieved to find that the walls had been dimmed somehow- as if they had a brightness setting that was simply turned down. [5] She manages to rub her eyes with the base of her hand, clearing away the fuzziness at the edge of her vision somewhat. The stranger holds out one of the bottles, and she’s glad to accept, preparing to swig the whole thing down with a drunken-man sort of desperation; but he tugs it away almost immediately, bringing forth a despairing whine from the girl. 

  “You have to sip it. Take it slow, or your body will go into shock.” 

The instructions are stern, and for the time being, she doesn’t have the will or the want to argue. So, she does as she’s told, slowly nursing away at the bottle- with some necessary assistance from the stranger, forced by her shakiness- until it’s contents are nearly gone. Just before she tackles the remaining fourth of the drink, it’s pulled away momentarily, and as a replacement, she’s handed two small pills that resemble any of the usual over-the-counter brands. 

Now, despite everything, this brings her to pause- as it should. Taking them without  _ some _ kind of consideration would be equivalent of throwing her life to the wind, which, despite the situation, she is not prepared to do. She flickers her attention to both her attendants: the helpful stranger, who is tapping his fingers on the edge of the mattress, staring in a thoughtful manner at the stitching: and Saix, who has taken to pacing along the opposite side of the room, arms crossed behind him and mumbling incessantly under his breath. As she’s straining to hear what he’s saying, a particularly dizzying wave pain tears through her system, making her wobble as a vignette of black overtakes her peripheral. Hesitation crashes away; she throws her head back and swallows the pills, thankful for the unhesitating return of the bottle of water afterwards. 

The next few minutes consist of angry cramps, and savoring in the weak sweetness of the second drink. Something to “-help with electrolytes,” as the stranger had said. [6] Whatever that may mean. The quivers ease up just a bit, still remaining as constant but weaker tremors. Her head still spins and complains with every shift or shuffle, but at the very least, she's gained some hint of clarity. Ever so slowly, she brings her head to rest against the board behind her, closing her eyes to welcome a softer darkness. 

She rests for a while, very much awake: although her company is convinced otherwise. The bed groans from a release of pressure as the younger rises and presumably makes his way over to Saix. 

  "I can't believe you let this happen." He reprimands, something cold working its way into his tone. "Another day and she would have been dead. Then what? This is our  _ last chance _ Saix."

  "You think I don't know that! Xemnas will have my head for this! We have to make her eat something before I go to him. It will be best if he believes that she's already recovering." 

Mira's stomach gives a harsh lurch and she's forced to swallow the acidic taste of bile in her throat. No. No, she is nowhere near ready to eat. And, as luck would have it, the stranger agrees. 

  "No! We're lucky that she's holding down something other than plain water, you can't just-" He cuts off unexpectedly. When he picks up again, the harshness has been startled from his words. Instead, he finds himself almost at a loss.  "...you plan on telling Xemnas."

  “Of course.” Saix says this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It will be better I tell him now and accept the repercussions. Say I neglect to tell him and he finds out on his own? I’d be removed from existence on the spot.”

  “You’re already playing your own death messenger...but so long as you don’t drag the rest of us down with you, I’m not going to push my involvement. However, I cannot allow you to force food on her just yet. Try that and you may just make her condition worse.”

  “Then what do you suggest I do!” The hazel-eyed man snarls his response, the sound bringing a ringing to Mira’s ears. 

  “For starters, be quiet! I can’t understand why you feel the need to yell. You should wait until he summons for her in a few days. By that point she should be up and about again, or at the very least, coherent and well enough to eat. Then, you’ll at least have  _ proof _ of her recovery.”

Saix doesn’t respond for some time. The air is filled with a shaking tension, and the girl’s eyes twitch as she fights the urge to sneak a glance at the pair. Eventually, there comes a low, frustrated growl. 

  “Perhaps I’ll take your advice. However  _ Zexion _ -” The name is hissed through clenched teeth, “I’ll remind you to watch your tone with me in the future. Your attitude is rising far above your rank, and it will do you well to keep it in check.”

And with a rushed order of “Watch over the girl,'' the older man hustles out of the room, leaving Mira alone with this new...acquaintance: who, as soon as Saix is gone, gives a long, deep sigh. When he starts shuffling to her bedside, she allows her eyes to flutter open, studying him as he takes a seat on a chair that certainly wasn’t there before. He brushes the steel-blue bangs from his face- rather pointlessly, as they immediately fall back again- then glances up. 

  “I had a feeling you were still awake.” The rather blatant statement might have surprised her, if she were not focused on something else entirely. 

  “...you’re Zexion?” She rolls her jaw trying to relieve the tightness; fumbling slightly over her words as she organizes her thoughts. 

  “Yes?” 

  “You made the...the breakfast the other day...all that food…”

He raises an eyebrow at her, his only visible eye widening in quaint surprise. 

  “Indeed I did. Might I ask who told you?” 

  “Hmm...it was...was the big dude...big guy. He looks like...he’s got the...the weird hair, kinda like…the ginger.”

  “Lexaeus?” Zexion ventures, and Mira nods, once more pressing her head into her palms. “That’s rather unusual. He’s doesn’t often engage in pleasantries with anyone besides myself. Perhaps he’s taking a different approach to this project…” His fingers resume the patterned tapping he’d taken up earlier. 

  “...it was good.” She needlessly ensures, letting out the only words she has left to say. “All of it...it was good.”

She never receives a response. 

 

[4]-  _ Demyx hadn’t been allowed anywhere near her since the whole incident when she first arrived. Lucky for Mira though, he’s got a childish persistence, and took to bugging Saix about when he could “actually see the newbie again”. It was at this point that the Diviner realized that he hadn’t brought the girl for lunch in quite some time, and an anxious follow up proved that  _ no one _ had gotten her for  _ any meal. __

 

[5]-  _ It hadn’t taken long for the girl to notice all the peculiarities of the building. The systems seem to run themselves; the rooms are always a comfortable temperature; and some time ago, while she was out, she’d watched an entire room change, seemingly with a flick of a Xaldin’s wrist. _

 

[6]-  _ It was basically a watered down Powerade.  _

 

**_2  weeks, 2 Days_ **

 

Silence can be scarring. One can say what they will about noise becoming overwhelming and jarring out a fight-or-flight instinct when things get too rowdy; a well placed silence can throw the bravest and calmest minds into a panicked overdrive. Especially when unsaid words are floating tauntingly in the air. 

Which is a fair way to explain the current situation. 

It’s been a number of days since Mira’s  _ lovely _ waltz outside of Death’s door. Four of them were spent slugging through a recovery that only plays out as fuzzy memories in Mira’s mind. She can remember who was there and a general timeline of when, but specific conversations and who handed her what is all just a blur. She knows Zexion was a near-constant presence, and that Saix made a nuisance of himself by demanding a condition update every hour. Once, Vexen entered the room, he and Zexion engaging in a brief mumbled conversation: the older blonde surveying her with a degrading sneer before scuffling out. 

That same level of hatred falls down on her now, as she once again finds herself surrounded by the towering chairs of the Round Room. Only, this time, she isn't alone down there on the floor; and she isn’t the one trapped under Xemnas’ judgemental gaze. Because Saix had just broken the news to his superior. And Mira is certain that only she can see the first hints of his stone-cold facade crumbling away; he stands rigid in his position, completely still with the exception of his fingers. Every so often, they will twitch, or pick at the fabric of his coat. His expression remains unreadable as he and Xemnas hold each other's stare. 

When the higher up speaks, those in the room twitch. 

  “Saix…you are one of my few advisors and my most trusted member. I respect your opinion, recognize all that you do for this Organization, and trust you to keep order when I cannot be around to do so. I have placed my faith in your hands time and time again, and without fail you have proven to be worthy of your stature. I _know_ you are a driven and competent individual-- one of my most reliable followers.” Lips twist up into a frightening sneer. “Now, with all that being said, would you _kindly_ explain to me, once more, how you allowed your _sole_ charge to be left _unattended_? _For_ _._ _Three_ _._ _Days_ ** _._** ” 

The rage hovers above their heads like a hot sun, the flames of it licking across their skin and making Mira long for the safety her comfortably chilled room; and none of this is even directed at her. For now. Praying that holds true, she risks a glance up at Xemnas’ face.

His eyes are  _ glowing _ . 

  “ _ That can’t be good.” _

  “Well sir, you see-”

  “AND, am I to believe, also, that her door was still locked? Or at the very least, she was not made aware that it was unlocked? Scenarios like this, Saix, are exactly why I gave  _ you _ those instructions  _ directly _ . I thought you could be trusted, but I was obviously mistaken.” Saix’s teeth grind together. “Perhaps I should  _ remind _ you what happens when my orders are so  _ blatantly ignored.” _

  “Sir, ple-”  

  “ _ SILENCE!” _

Mira jerks at the dizzying wave of magic that rushes through the room, forcing the both of them back several feet. Xemnas’ sneer falls into an awful, empty flatness.

  “ _ Lethal frame _ _. _ ” [7]

Mira’s breath hitches. The air suddenly feels like its been turned to glass, and blue eyes go wide as Xemnas calls forth an all too familiar red beam. It splits into multiples, and the threatening orbs hover just above the elders outstretched palm. She turns her attention back to Saix, who has yet to move from his place. His fists clench at his sides. His eyes bore holes into the ground. He looks stuck in place. 

Frozen. 

  “ _ He wouldn’t.” _   The thought crosses Mira’s mind just as a searing bullet lands at her company’s feet. 

_   “ _ **_He would_ ** _.” _

And for the first time in quite a while, the girl finds herself believing that little voice in her head rather whole-heartedly. A second pellet whizzes by his elf-like ear, singeing the ends of several hairs. A third actually catches him in the opposite shoulder, and the blonde watches in absolute horror as the trapped man’s face contorts in pain; the only part of him left to movement. 

She looks up. No one else is stuck. But none of them plan on intervening. She can see them watching, emotions hidden beneath empty exteriors. Most are watching at least. A few have directed their attention towards her. She can feel their blame oozing over her head 

  “ _ It’s not my fault!” _ She wants to scream at them. “ _ You’re the ones who kidnapped me! You’re the ones that forgot!  _

And they were. But that truth isn’t enough to help Mira refrain from floundering beneath the weight of silent accusations. Unable to look at any of them any longer, she clenches her eyes shut and turns her head towards the floor. Teeth grit together. Nails scratch at wrists. She feels the heat of another beam sear the ground near her.

  “ _ I can’t do this!” _ She cries mentally. “ _ I can’t watch this happen!” _

  “ **_You shouldn’t care what happens to him. He nearly let you die.”_ **

**_“_ ** _ I know that! I know I shouldn’t be bothered! I know I shouldn’t care! But I do!”  _ Tears of frustration threaten to slip away. She takes a deep, shuddering breath, “ _ I do care. ” _

_   “ _ STOP! Please, just stop!”

Shockingly enough, this works. The red beams halt immediately, hovering as a mean, ominous ball in the air. There’s no doubt about it; she has everyone’s attention now. Saix is still immobile, but he is watching her from his peripheral. Understandably, he seems wary. Confused. Xemnas looks fixedly down at her, hand frozen in mid-gesture and eyebrows raised.

  “Maybe...maybe the door was unlocked. Looking back, I don’t think I bothered to try it...The thought just never crossed my...crossed....never crossed my mind ...” As she fumbles, her defense shrinks in and her lips grant her the mercy of sealing themselves. Xemnas’ glare is so piercing that her lungs shrivel, and she actually shuffles backwards. Even from so far below, she can see the cogs turning in his brain as he searches for a response. 

  “How... _ interesting _ ... you're choosing to defend him? I know, of course, that you are lying. I’m no fool. But, with that in mind, you still choose to speak on his behalf. I have to ask...are you prepared to accept whatever consequences may come from this decision?” 

Mira falters here. It's not an easy question by any means. She'd only wanted the barrage to stop. She hadn't considered that punishment would follow in the wake of her attempt. And Xemnas is right. She  _ had _ tried the door many times, only to find it stuck like cement. 

Her teeth take to chewing on her bottom lip as she contemplates. 

What happens to her if she says yes? What happens to Saix if she says no? Would he be brutalized? Killed? And even if they keep _her_ alive, what would they do to make her life more of a hell? Survival instincts say to save herself. But her attention goes to Saix, and dozens of scenarios clutter up her logic, each one more horrifying than the last. Blunt, uneven nails scratch with increasing intensity at her forearm. It doesn't hurt like it should. She'd been biting them again.

_ "Am I really gonna do this?" _

_   " _ **_If I were you? Hell no. That man has done nothing to earn your sympathy and you_ ** **know** **_this is what he deserves."_ **

**_"_ ** _ So I'm just supposed to stand here and watch him get fried? Or murdered? I'm not sure I'd be able to live with that." _

_   " _ **_Well then, you tell me! Can you throw this man under the bus, regardless of what it may mean for him? Or what_ ** **saving** **_him means for you?”_ **

An answer comes to her much more willingly than she'd like to admit. She sucks in a breath: looks around: sighs. She tilts her head back and stares Xemnas directly in the face, steady blue meeting power-lit gold. 

And she nods.

[7]-  _ When used by Sora, Lethal Frame will freeze an enemy in place, allowing him to deal multiple, close-combat blows. However, magic works differently for each individual, and as to be seen,  Xemnas’ magic works in a way more suited to his battle techniques.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, as promised! I have a bit more free time to write during the week now thanks to my Creative Writing class, so I'm planning on getting the next one done here soon. I am getting over my once-a-year sinus infection though, so I'm probably gonna take another day or so before trying to push myself. But, that's all for now my dears, and I hope you all enjoy!


	7. When Nothing Adds Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mira has started making it clear that she won't stand for being pushed around. And as one might expect, problems arise when a snarky teenager begins clashing with a high-and-mighty nobody- especially when neither side can do any real damage to the other. As tensions continue to grow, our main character debates with herself on whether she could use an ally in this unpredictable shadow land: and how to find the borderline between saving her sanity, and becoming too adjusted.

**_2 weeks, 2 Days (Still)_ **

 

_ Three men remain in the round room after the meeting has concluded- numbers I, II, and III.   _

_ The last member has hardly been gone a minute, but II is already moving to lower his hood and shift into a more comfortable position. As he wrestles his hair free from the coat, the other two glance briefly in his direction; then at one another; and then, they follow suit by revealing their faces. They don’t, however, bother with their own manes. Instead, they stare with a morose focus at the floor roughly a story below, until II is apparently comfortable and sated. The aging quiet is broken only by his dramatic sigh of relief.  _

_   "Ah, that's better! You know, these old coats are so stuffy. I say, in celebration of our newest addition, we spring for new ones. Something with a lighter material. " _

_   "Stop your whining." III says gruffly, "There's a more important topic at hand. And besides, we all voted on these coats when the Organization first formed." _

_   "Hey, all I'm saying is it's kinda hard to play the part when ya feel suffocated like that. It'd be easy to send the dusks out to-" _

_   "Enough. Both of you." I spikes in, cutting off the men's senseless bickering. They go silent, but II never loses his sly grin, "It's interesting, isn't it?" _

_   "The material?" II offers in a snide tone. This time, he receives a full glare from the superior, although he doesn't appear particularly frightened by it.  _

_   "The girl." The first growls, then immediately releases a heavy breath. II isn’t worth getting frustrated over- it only amuses him, “Her actions today were...unexpected to say the least. I’d certainly prepared myself for some strange behavior- seeing as she still has her heart- but I never foresaw her defending one of our own members this early on.”  _

_   “I gotta admit, it  _ _ was _ _ a bit of a shock.” The second agrees, noticing how even the third nods, “The kid’s working up to be a fun addition to the little menagerie we’ve got goin’ on here.” _

_   “Most likely, she feared you would kill Saix. Her reports do say that she has trouble facing violence and retribution. Perhaps her anxieties simply got the better of her.” The third says.  _

_   “Perhaps...”  _

_ The air comes to rest for a minute or so as the three sit in their own ways of contemplation. II glances in the direction of the white-haired leader once. Twice A third time. Eventually, he simply turns and stares. It’s only then that he gains a reaction. _

_   “Stop that before I personally blind you.” _

_   “That’s pretty harsh ya know. Just wondering what’s on your mind.” _

_   “With you, it’s never  _ _ just _ _ anything.” I murmurs, becoming increasingly agitated by the second’s cocky persistence.  _

_   “You’re wondering how this will affect the plan.” _

_   “That’s enough Xigbar.” III warns. _

_   “Because if this girl is still applying her morals to us, that means things are going to be a lot more complicated. You wanted this to drive her closer to the edge, but obviously she isn’t as near to it as you first assumed.” II pushes on, noting the damning expression grow on the face of his ‘boss’. A man who doesn’t fear death can be a very useful subordinate- however, he can also make for a highly obnoxious council member, as I is now being reminded. “I gotta wonder though, now that the surprise test is out of the way...were you actually gonna do it?” _

_   “Do. what?” A question spoken through grinding teeth. _

_   “Ya know. Destroy Saix?” There’s a pure sense of morbid curiosity to the question that might have concerned anyone else. That is, anyone outside of these walls.  _

_ Quite suddenly, the superior seems to lose a fair bit of tension. Any meeting involving II always leaves him unnaturally exhausted afterwards, and his breaking point is nearly upon him now. The room dwells in silence as he gathers himself once more, feeling the eyes of both his cabinet members now on him. One hand reaches up and begins to worry his hair.  _

_   “I’m not sure. I was still in the process of deciding when she intervened.”  _

_ And with that strained tone of finality, I prepares to leave. He stands and calls the darkness to wick up around him. In a swift moment, its pulled him away and into the corridors.  The two remaining men are silent for a beat, and then- _

_   “Wonder what’s up with him.” II muses aloud.  _

_ III just shakes his head. Opting for the same escape that I did, he summons up a dark portal of his own and is quickly gone. He certainly can’t deal with II by himself; not without attacking him. _

_ Once alone, the sole black coat reclines in his seat and chuckles. _

 

_ *** _

**_Meanwhile, in a separate corner of the castle..._ **

 

  “ Would you stop with that incessant humming!”

The sound of plastic snapping tells Mira that Saix has broken yet another toothbrush. His easily roused temper has proved to be the only source of entertainment for the girl as they scrubbed, otherwise uneventfully, around the kitchen. Hiding a smirk behind her broom handle, she purrs out a brief “My bad.”

 

Xemnas’ punishment hadn’t exactly been what Mira had suspected. Instead of trial by fire or endless days in a dungeon, (She’d be left with nothing but diseased rats and the  murky water dripping from the ceiling to keep her alive. She would have to chew off her own arm to get out of chains, and carve a file out of a stray stone found in her cell to break free) her and Saix were sentenced to cleaning duty. They’re meant to neaten, polish, and sterilize every main area of the castle over the course of the next few weeks. Together.

And for about ten minutes, Mira had felt a sense of relief. Cleaning was something she could do, no problem. After all, she’d spent years fixing up her shack in Twilight Town (be assured, it was no easy feat), and the bakery had always needed wiped down or mopped up to some degree. It should be a quick and painless chore; an effortless job. 

Note, the  _ should _ be. 

  “You missed a spot.”

  “That’s not how you do it.”

  “You’re moving too slow.”

The constant beradements from Saix are quick to put her in a sour mood. She’d put her own life on the line for him, but hadn’t received a single thank you, or even an ounce of appreciation in return. In fact, it seems that he’s only gotten  _ more  _ intolerant of her presence. It was a blessing to her when he finally decided that she was no longer worth his time, and simply turned to focus on his own work. The air between them is so coldly charged that it could give any standerby goosebumps. He refuses to speak to her, unless it’s with a complaint, and when she once offered to help (she'd finished with her part pretty quickly), he snapped at her. 

  “ _ Just focus on your tasks.” _

_   “But I’m-” _

_   “I don’t want to hear it. Get to work.” _

 

Fine. So be it. To entertain herself, Mira took to being a nuisance; trying to see what aggravates him the most; what little ticks and fidgets could cause him to grind his teeth or snarl obscenities. Or, snap a utensil. After each experiment, she sorts her findings into one of three lists:

**No tolerance** **_Whatsoever_ ** (Singing: Drumming on the counter: quite literally just sitting down to take a break)

**Short-Term Tolerance** (Humming: Talking to herself: Eating/Drinking breaks:)

**Long Term Tolerance/Not Bothered** (Dancing around, for whatever reason)

She finds it fun to watch his temper flare as she pretends to get less and less work done. But as time has gone on and her ideas begin to run dry, she once again finds herself wondering if she could get away with drowning herself in a bucket of dirty mop water. Her eyes flicker to the back of Saix, who, if she didn’t know better, might be oblivious to her presence. Then, she turns towards the door, and the idea clicks into her head. 

Very...very slowly, she leans her broom against the wall. Sock-clad feet gliding over floor, breath held in her throat, she begins her ghosting escape. Her hard-blue gaze never leaves the man, widening slightly at every shift or sigh. 

  “ _ Almost there…” _ Her fingers reach out to clasp at the frame. “ _ Almost…” _

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

She jerks back and releases a frustrated groan. Of course he’s caught her. Somehow, he seems to have some weird sixth sense, which goes off every time she tries to do...well, anything. Feeling deflated, she tromps back over to the table and slumps into one of the chairs. Her arms cross over her chest as she releases a clearly audible ‘ _ humph _ ’. 

  “You think you’re a real sneak, don’t you?” Saix, noticing she’s sat down, finally stands and approaches her. Judgement lines both his words and his expression as he looks down. She matches his angry gleer with one of a similar intensity. “Stop goofing around and actually do your work. I’d like to be out of here sometime before the night is gone.”

  “I’m already done with my work! In fact, I’ve been done for the past hour!” Mira spits. She watches as Saix surveys the kitchen, doubt in his expression. When he turns back to her, his words are as cold and empty as ever.

  “Why didn't you say anything?”

Something inside Mira snaps. She straightens up, and tries to decide whether she wants to gape or bare her teeth. In the end, she goes with the latter, her next words dripping with venom.

  “You’re a bastard.”

  “And you, an unruly little rodent.”

  “At least some people  _ like _ rodents.”

  “Around here, we like them for testing.  _ Usually _ they put up much less of a fuss.”

  “Yeah, well  _ usually _ the lab rats get to hang around with the clever people. I’m just the  _ ‘lucky’ _ one that got stuck cleaning out the cage with the local apathetic, OCD, half-wit.”

  “If you despise me so much, then why bother saving me from Xemnas? Seems like you would just prefer me dead.”

  “Well, you stickish twat, if you really must know, it’s because  _ some of us _ don’t enjoy seeing others murdered in cold blood.” A hot flame of rage has sparked to life inside Mira’s stomach, and she’s suddenly standing. Her chest puffs out, and she takes a few steps forward, forcing him to move back. 

  “You need to stand down.” He straightens up himself, a dangerous glint waking in his bronze-gold eyes. “Xemnas wouldn’t have killed me. I’m too valuable an asset to the Organization.”

  “Valuable huh? Is that why everyone shuffles off the moment you walk into a room? And most of the orders you give go completely ignored? And why everyone in that room was ready to just sit back and watch you die?”

  “Xemnas wasn’t going to-”

  “Yeah, yeah, sure. But ya know, I didn’t see anyone that was particularly bothered by you being attacked. Makes me wonder if they’re actually _eager_ to get rid of y-”

  “That. Is. Enough.” 

If Mira were a little more observant, she might stop now. Saix’s fists have clenched so harshly onto the edge of the tabletop, it begins to groan under the pressure. Small bits of uncontrolled and vicious magic fall off of him like dripping water. The air around him quivers. His demand is ground out through a growl, deep and filled with malice. Something about this conversation has set him off, and Mira is too caught up in her own snarkiness and agitation to notice. 

  “No. I don’t think it is. You want to stand here and act like I’m the worst thing to ever exist within these walls, but from what I’ve seen? Nobody can even stand to be around  _ you _ longer than they absolutely have to. I'm starting to wonder if you actually know what a friend is, or if you've always been this hate-WHOA!”

The last straw snaps. Saix gives a horrible, animalistic cry and pounds a fist on the table- a spider web of deep cracks emerges. Mira can’t even prepare herself before a huge surge of magic explodes out to fill the room. It gives off a searing sort of smell as most of it is absorbed into the walls, floor, and cupboards, and the pure force of it quite literally  _ throws _ her backwards. Taking the chair with her, the girl slams into the wall by the door, landing amongst a pile of splinters and woodchips  [1] . Gasping and groaning, Mira can only watch through blurry vision as Saix tears out of the room, completely abandoning the situation. 

Wisps of darkness lick at the bottom of his boots as he runs. 

Mira rests her head back against the wall. The Voice comes forth. 

  “ **_That was pretty cocky, even for you. I’m surprised he didn’t send you_ ** **_through_ ** **_the wall.”_ **

**_“_ ** _ Say what you want, he was being a dimp-weed. Still...I guess I really need to learn to keep my fat mouth shut.” _

_   “ _ **_If only for the sake of our survival? Yes, definitely.”_ **

It goes silent, and she can feel it brewing with its own thoughts, which dodge between hers somehow. By the time it pipes back up, Mira has regained most of her breath, and is working through the pain-staking process of getting back up on her feet. Already, she knows there to be a nasty bruise starting across her shoulder blades. 

  “ **_You saw it though, didn’t you?”_ ** It volunteers an image in her mind. One she’d only caught for a split-second before Saix was gone, but knows she hadn’t mistaken.

  “ _ I did. I was hoping that Xemnas was just a fluke, but now Saix as well? The magic these guys use isn’t normal. I’ve never seen anything like it.” _

__ **_“We’ve got to watch where and how we step from now on.”_ ** It replies, low and tense.  **_“Whatever they have, it certainly doesn’t feel like magic.”_ **

With this, Mira cannot truly agree or disagree. One thing she’s learned about The Voice is that it can sense power in a way that she herself cannot. Normal magic has a feel to it, apparently, only noticeable by those who use it. But this entity in her head always seems to be aware of its presence, despite Mira's complete inability to perform any spells [2] . Regardless, she has a feeling her mental companion is right.  Because right before he'd disappeared she’d been unable to avoid noticing at Saix’s eyes. 

The last thing she’d seen was them lighting into an impure glow. 

 

[1]-  _ She really cannot catch a break here, can she?  _

[2]-  _ Well, not  _ _ complete _ _ inability. She does know  _ _ one _ _ spell, but due to her lack of magical finesse, it's nearly useless to her. _

 

**_2 Weeks, 4 Days_ **

 

When Mira wasn’t on forced cleaning duty, she was wandering the halls of the castle almost endlessly. Her newfound freedom is doing wonders for her healthy and clarity. She has yet to find an exit to the place, but in her mind, no exit is better than one that does not open. It means there are still more things for her to explore. 

Some rooms still remain sealed to her, although most she knows to be either bedrooms or offices. Then, there’s a small chemical closet in Vexen’s lab: a greenhouse off of Marluxia’s garden room: and two large, mocking double doors at the very end of an east-wing hallway. Beyond that, she’s quickly running out of options, and scouring around is the only way to keep herself busy. Unless, of course, she decides to get ahead on her and Saix’s daily chores- and even then, he’ll probably force her to clean it all again anyways. 

On this particular day, she had made her usual, basic rounds, Mira had given in and simply retreated back to her room. After pacing around in circles for a while, she groans. Dropping to a sitting position on the floor, she only holds her head as exasperation expands in her mind, crowding out all other thoughts. Slowly, she falls onto her back. 

  “Iiiiii’m sooooo boooorrred.” Mira half-sings out into the empty space. Her monotone is reflective of the colorless, dull room around her. 

  “ **_Honestly? I shouldn’t be capable of_ ** **_feeling_ ** **_, but this is driving me mad. How does that even work?”_ **

  “As soon as I figure it out, I’ll tell you.” She murmurs back, drawing invisible shapes in the air with her fingers. Her arm falls lazily back over her stomach. 

  “Heya squirt! What’s u-” 

Mira’s heads shoots up. Standing in the doorway, staring at her with a smiling, but ultimately confused expression, is Demyx. The silence binds them for a moment, before Mira, with as much dignity as she can summon, pushes herself up onto her elbows. She raises her eyebrows. 

  “Yo.”

  “Hey...what’cha doin’ there?”

  “Wondering what I did to invoke such cruelties from the universe.”

  “As you do.” He chuckles.

  He takes a few steps into the room. If it were any other of the members, Mira might stand. But Demyx poses no threat to her, and, quite honestly, he doesn’t seem to hold her to any real standard. So, she only watches as he examines the room, hands clasped behind his head. 

  “Haven’t got much goin’ on in here, huh?” 

  “Um, no? I don’t plan on moving in. Besides, Santa’s angriest elf won’t even give me a simple chair- I doubt he’ll allow some posters and a throw rug.”

  “Santa’s angriest- oh my God.” She watches as her meaning dawns on him, and words give way to a hearty laugh. “That’s a new one! Oh, he’ll hate it!”

The girl, as impersonal as she wants to be, feels her lips twitching at the corners. This one. This one is going to be a problem. He’s too friendly for Mira to simply shove aside. Every time they’ve run into each other, he’s never had a negative thing to say, and she’s starting to concern about that a little. With everyone else being so stand-offish towards her (as she expected a group of captors would be), his brotherly approach comes off as a bit more than suspicious. What’s his real goal here anyways?

  “Munch? Muuuunnnchkin…?” Mira’s breath catches. She blinks. Rubs her eyes. She’d spaced out staring at him, and his concerned calling forcing her attention to retrace its steps, “Yo, are you alright?”

  “Hm? Yeah, yeah, fine.”

He gives her a strange look- something of disbelief, with a bit of  _ ‘do-you-think-I’m-so-stupid?’ _ thrown in. 

  “Alright, ya know what? C’mon. We’re gonna find you something to do.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.” The usual grin falls back onto his face. “There is no way I’m gonna let you sit here and turn into a rotting vegetable. So whaddya say we go find something to do?”  
Mira squints at him. He holds a hand out to help her up, and she’s still weighing the pros and cons of accompanying him as she accepts it. Of course she’ll go with him. At this point, even being led into a potential trap is going to be more entertaining than just crawling mindlessly about her room.

They walk side by side towards the North wing- the general direction of all hobby and entertainment related areas. As they walk, Demyx filling the would-be silence with some easy chatter, she finds herself staring into every open room that they pass. An inevitable sense of awe begins to fill her, as it always does when strolling through the castle. Because, yes, she’s in the enemy’s territory right now. But at the same time, she’s never stayed in a place with more than two bedrooms or floors. Having so much space to run around has been a new experience for her entirely; and if she were to actually make use of the facilities available to her, she’d never be bored again. But she doesn’t plan to. 

Past the gym, and the mechanical room (filled with many, many strange machines); past the lab and the library; even past the garden room, which Mira had originally assumed to be final room out in this particular direction. Its finally at this point that she throws a suspicious glance at her guide. 

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise.” She comes to a quick halt, staring after him before he notices she’s falling behind. “What?”

  “Listen man, usually I’m all for a good surprise. But the last couple days haven’t really brought me the best of luck, and I’m getting a  _ little  _ tired of ending up in unexpected places.”

Demyx gasps dramatically, and playfully indignant expression overtaking him. A hand comes to rest on his chest.

  “I am  _ hurt! _ Are you saying you don’t  _ trust _ me?” 

  “Don’t get me wrong, but do you really expect me to?”

  “Of course! I haven’t done anything to make you  _ not _ trust me.”

  “You...You’re...I’m….” Mira staggers for words that she can barely find. Eventually, she closes her mouth and turns her head downwards, pressing it into the heels of her hands. “I’m gonna level with you dude, I literally...don’t know what to say here. I’m having a hard time believing that you aren’t just faking this- like I’m gonna blink and suddenly you’re gonna become the worst of the worst here.”

Now, he really does drop the lighthearted attitude, seeming upset and slightly wounded. “I’m not gonna hurt you, if that’s what you mean.”

  “And again, I’m just supposed to believe that? I. Am. A. _Captive_. I didn’t bring myself here. I don’t plan on _staying_ here, and I _certainly_ don’t plan on making friends. I’m not sure what you want from me.”

  “Then why talk to me? You don’t talk to people you don’t want to be friends with.”

  “Because you’re weirdly nice! And this entire situation just feels like...like I’m running across a minefield with my eyes closed…” She trails off for a moment, gaze nailed to the floor. She can’t seem to stop the words flowing from her lips, 

  “I  _ know _ there have to be safe places to step, but I have no clue where there are, and I don’t get the terrain at all, and I don’t know why I’m even here. And then in the middle of trying to sort that all out- when  _ maybe _ I’ve gotten a pattern going that keeps me alive- suddenly there’s this huge, plainly marked ‘safe space’ in the middle of the field, and it just...makes no  sense, the fact that it’s there. It doesn’t fit in with anything else here and as much as I want to accept it, I  _ can’t _ because it doesn’t automatically make everything else okay, and how can I be sure that it isn’t just a trap? I can’t. I can’t be sure of _ anything _ right now _ , _ and it’s...it’s scary.”

Where in God’s name had all that come from? She clenches her jaw, rubs with agitation at her arm, swallows hard. She shouldn’t have said anything. Hell, she should have just walked away from him twenty minutes ago; never engaged in conversation. She feels the unwelcome attention crawling over her skin in a creeping fashion. She prickles as he sighs. 

  “Aw man...I’m really really bad at this. Listen munch, I’m sorry. I can’t just let you go, and I don’t have any of the answers you’re looking for because nobody tells  _ me _ anything either.” Glancing up, Mira sees him frown and fuss habitually with his hair, “But I know two things for sure; one, you’re here until the foreseeable future; and two, you’ve been lookin’ kinda lonely lately. Honestly, I was just thinking you could use some good company.”

They stand together, cradled by the uneasy silence. Mira’s arms have fallen back to her sides, small pools of remorse lapping up at her heels. She lifts her head gingerly, only to find him watching her a sort of sadness in his eyes. Opening her mouth to speak, she- at first- only manages a soft exhale. Preparing her words, she tries again. 

  “I appreciate the effort. But I just  _ can’t _ trust you.”

Another short beat of thought.

  “Then don’t.” Demyx says. He waits until she’s tilting her head at him before he continues, “You don’t need to trust me. You don’t even need to like me. But what you  _ do _ need to do is find a hobby while you’re here, because- and you can take it from me, cuz’ I know about as well as anyone- you’ll go stir crazy without one. If you don’t wanna hang with me, whatever, I get it. But don’t just stress out in your room all day. It won’t do any good.”

As he finishes, he moves to lean against the wall and stare at the ceiling. Mira, after dealing with a particularly difficult internal conflict, finally observes him with a somber resignment. In her mind, she reasons that, although all the things he’s saying could be lies, they’ve gotta be damn good ones that she’s a little inclined to believe at this point. With all this fretting and stressing she’s been doing, even The Voice seems to be growing weaker from all the mental exhaustion. She hasn’t heard from it in a few days now. 

Some form of distraction is absolutely becoming a requirement. 

  “Okay.” She says. 

Beach blue eyes flicker in her direction. 

  “Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay. I’ll find something to keep myself busy.” In her agreement though, she crosses her arms, “But I’m not going to just blindly follow you around. I’m not an idiot.” 

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “No, you didn’t. I’m just saying.”

  “That you’re an idiot?”

  “No, that I’m  _ not _ an idiot.”

  “But I know you’re not.”

  “I know. Like I said, I was just saying.”

  “Oh, okay.”

They stop: purse their lips: blink at each other.

  “I think I just lost a few brain cells.” Mira says slowly. 

  “That’s what’ll happen. If you keep scratching around at the walls like a trapped animal- and do nothing else- soon enough, that’s all you’ll know how to do.”

  “Yeah...yeah, okay. So uh...what exactly was it that you had in mind earlier?”

  “Alright, I just figured I’d- wait, really?”

Mira nods, holding both arms out at her sides. 

  “I give. Show me what you got.”

The switch in moods is almost immediate. Demyx perks up in a way that reminds her of an excited dog; the sparkle of anticipation behind his eyes doing much to settle her own disposition. She finds herself fighting off a grin as he spouts out his next question.  

  “Have you ever considered picking up an instrument?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Right off the bat, I really want to apologize for how long it took to get this chapter out. I've been in a big mental slump lately that's been making it really hard to write, but I don't want to abandon this project. It means a lot to me personally, and I plan to see it through. That being said, if it takes a ridiculous amount of time between chapters, I hope you can understand, and know that I am trying my absolute best. Even with that struggle, I think this part turned out well enough, and as always, if you have feedback, lemmie know! Until then, good day/afternoon/night everybody, and I hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Kingdom Hearts belongs to Square Enix and Nomura, and I do not own any of their characters. The only character in this fic that I do have rights to is the main character herself. All this in mind, I will do my absolute best to make sure that this fic follows their personalities, attitudes, and attributes as closely as possible!


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